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Falsiaff Wait close , I will not see him (i 2 53) 




Part II. 

Editep, with Notes, 








x 384* 


Edited by WM. J ROLFE, A M 

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Introduction to the Second Part of King Henry the 

Fourth. . . . . ... 9 

I The History of the Play. 9 

II. The Sources of the Plot ii 

III, Critical Comments on the Play. . ii 

KING HENRY IV Part II .. . .31 

Induction . 33 

Act I . . , , 35 

‘‘ n . ... 54 

“III 78 

‘‘IV. 93 

“V. • ... 119 

Notes. 137 





This play was first published in quarto form in 1600, with 
the following title-page (as given in the Camb. ed.) : 

The j Second part of Henrie | the fourth, continuing to 
his death, | and corofiation of He 7 zrie \ the fift | With the 
humours of sir lohn Fal- | sfaffe^ and swaggering | PistolL [ 
it hath been sundrie thnes puhlikely [ acted by the right 
honourable, the Lord | Chamberlaine his seruants. | Written 
by William Shakespeare, | London j Printed by V. S. for 
Andrew Wise, and 1 William Aspiey. | 1600. 

It had been entered by the publishers upon the Stationers- 



Registers on the 23d of August, 1600, in connection with 
Much Ado about Noi/tmg (see our ed. of that play, p 10) 

In some copies of the quarto the ist scene of act 111. is 
wanting The error seems to have been discoveied after 
part of the edition had been printed, and was lectified by 
inserting two new leaves. For these the type of some of 
the preceding and following leaves was used, so that there 
are two different impressions of the latter part of act 11. 
and the beginning of 111 2. 

The play in the ist folio was probably pi inted either fiom 
a transcript of the original manuscript, or from a complete 
copy of the quarto collated with such a transcript ‘‘ It con- 
tains passages of considerable length which are not found 
in the quarto. Some of these are among the finest in the 
play, and are too closely connected with the context to allow 
of the supposition that they were later additions inserted by 
the author after the publication of the quarto. In the man- 
uscript from which that edition was printed, these passages 
had been most likely omitted, or erased, in order to shorten 
the play for the stage” (Camb ed.) On the other hand, 
the quarto contains several passages which do not appear in 
the folio Some of these were probably struck out by the 
author, and others by the Master of the Revels. Theji/sWill 
be bonsidered in detail in our Notes below. 

The Second Part of King Henry IV. was probably written 
immediately after the First Part, and before the entry of the 
latter on the Stationers’ Registers, February 25, J598 for 
that entry shows that the name of Oldcastle, which was orig- 
inally applied to the fat knight in both plays, t had already 

^ As the year did not then end until March 25, the date ** Febriiai-y 
25, 1597,” on the Registers was of course February 25. 1598 (Coll ). 

t That this was true of 2 Henry IV. is evident from the fact that m the 
quarto of t6oo the prefix “ Old! is retained before one of the speeches 
of Falstaff (see on i 2. 113 below). Steevens, to be sure, suggested that 
04 / might have been the beginning of some actor’s name, but none 



been changed to FalstafF It was certainly written before 
Ben Jonson’s Every Man out of hts Humour^ which was act- 
ed in 1599 j for in that play Justice Silence is alluded to 
by name. 

Drake makes the date of 2 Henry IV 1596^ Chalmers, 
1597, Mqjone, and recently Fleay, 1 598 , Furnivall, 1597-8. 


As in the case of i Hcfiry IV. (see our ed. p, 10), Shake- 
speare took the main incidents of his plot from Holinshed’s 
Chronicles and from the old play of The Famous Victories of 
Henry the Fifth. The history of Henry is here continued' 
from the battle of Shiewsbury, July 21, 1403, to his death 
and the accession of Henry V. in Maich, 1413. 


[From Dr Johnsotls Remarks on the Flay.^J 
I fancy every reader, when he ends this play, cries out 
with Desdemona, ^*0 most lame and impotent conclusion 
As this play was not, to our knowledge, divided into acts by 
the author, I could be content to conclude it with the death 
of Henry the Fourth — 

*Tn that Jerusalem shall Hairy die ” 

These scenes, which now make the fifth act of Henry /F, 
might then be the first qI Henry V., but the truth is, that 
they do not unite very commodiously to either play. When 
these plays were represented, I believe they ended as they 

such can be found m the lists of the time that have come down to us , 
and Malone believed that the prefix crept into the quarto “merely from 
Oldcastle being, behind the scenes, the familiar theatrical appellation of 
Falstaff, who was his stage-successor.” More recently Stokes {Chron. 
Order of Shakespeare"* s Plays, p. 57 fol.) has attempted to prove that 
2 Henry IV. was not written before the entry of i Hemy IV, but he 
gives no explanation of this prefix in the quaito 
* As given in the Var of 1821, vol. xvii p 239 



are now ended in the books ; but Shakespeare seems to have 
designed that the whole senes of action, from the beginning 
oi Richard IL to the end oi Henry T, should be considered 
by the reader as one work, upon one plan, only broken into 
parts by the necessity of exhibition. 

None of Shakespeare’s plays are moie read than the first 
and second parts of Henry IV Perhaps no author has ever, 
in two plays, afforded so much delight. The gieat events 
are interesting, for the fate of kingdoms depends upon them ; 
the slighter occurrences are diveiting, and, except one or two, 
sufficiently probable. The incidents are multiplied with won- 
derful fertility of invention, and the characters diversified 
with the utmost nicety of discernment and the profoundest 
skill in the nature of man. 

The Prince, who is the hero both of the comic and tragic 
parts, is a young man of great abilities and violent passions, 
whose sentiments are right, though his actions are wrong; 
whose virtues are obscured by negligence, and whose under- 
standing is dissipated by levity In his idle hours, he is rath- 
er loose than wicked, and when the occasion forces out his 
latent qualities, he is great without effort, and brave without 
tumult. The tnfler is roused into a hero, and the hero again 
reposes in the trifler. The character is great, original, and 

Percy is a rugged soldier, choleric and quarrelsome, and 
has only the soldier’s virtues, generosity and courage. 

But Falstaff— -unimitated, unimitable Falstaff-— how shall 
I describe thee? thou compound of sense and vice; of sense 
which maybe admired, but not esteemed, of vice which may 
be despised, but hardly detested, Falstaff is a character 
loaded with faults, and with those faults which naturally pro- 
duce contempt. He is a thief and a glutton, a coward and 
a boaster; always ready to cheat the weak, and prey upon 
the poor-^to terrify the timorous, and insult the defenceless. 
At once obsequious and malignant, he satirises m their ab- 



sence those whom he lives by flattering. He is familiar with 
the Prince only as an agent of vice ^ but of this familiarity 
he is so proud as not only to be supercilious and haughty 
with common men, but to think his interest of importance to 
the Duke of Lancaster Yet the man thus corrupt, thus des- 
picable, makes himself necessary to the Prince that despises 
him by the most pleasing of all qualities, perpetual gayety — 
by an unfailing power of exciting laughter, which is the more 
freely indulged, as his wit is not of the splendid or ambitious 
kind, but consists in easy scapes and sallies of levity which 
make sport, but raise no envy. It must be observed, that he 
is stained with no enormous or sanguinary crimes, so that 
his licentiousness is not so offensive but that it may be borne 
for his mirth. 

The moral to be drawn from this representation is, that 
no man is more dangerous than he that, with a will to cor- 
rupt, hath the power to please; and that neither wit nor 
honesty ought to think themselves safe with such a com- 
panion when they see Henry seduced by Falstaff. 

[From VerplancFs Shakespeare,^-] 

The observations on the dramatic character, historic ver- 
ity, invention, and style of the First Part of Henry IV^ are 
in the main equally applicable to the Second Part, It having 
been written, as the external and internal evidence concur 
in showing, not very long after the first part, when the au- 
thor’s mind was filled with the characteis, story, and the 
spirit of that, the two together have the unity of a single 
drama. It is, however, inferior to its predecessor as a woik 
of dramatic art, though, in my judgment, not at all so as a 
work of genius It is not as perfect as the other as an his- 
torical tragi-comedy, as on its tragic side it has a less vivid 

^ The Illustrated Shakespeare, edited by G. C VerpUnck (New York, 
1847), vol i p 5 of 2 Henry IV 

t See our ed. of 1 Henry IV p. 15 fol . — Ed 



and sustained interest, and approaches in those scenes moie 
to the dramatized chronicle, in fact, adhering much more 
rigidly to historical authority, and deviating from it veiy 
little except in compiessing into connected continuous ac- 
tions events really separated by years Its nobler charac- 
ters have much less of chivaliic and romantic splendoui, 
and its action less of stage interest and effect, and its poetry 
far less of kindling and exciting fervour On this account it 
has long disappeared as a whole fiom the stage; but por- 
tions of It are familiar even to those whose knowledge of 
Shakespeare is acquired only from the stage, having been 
interwoven by Cibber, or some other manufacturer of the 
acted drama,” into the action of Rtchard IIL Other por- 
tions, like the King’s invocation to sleep, the Archbishop's 
meditation on the instability of popular favour, Lady Percy’s 
lament for Hotspur, and the last scene between the Prince 
and his father, have sunk deep into thousands of hearts, and 
live in the general memory. Nor is the entire graver dia- 
logue unworthy of these gems with which it is studded , for 
It IS throughout rich in thought, noble and impressive in 
style, and the characters it presents are drawn, if not with 
the same bold freedom and pointed invention as in the first 
part, yet with undiminished truth and discrimination. 

But on the comic side of the play there as no flagging either 
of spirit or invention. On the contrary, the humour, if per- 
haps less lively and sparkling, is still more rich and copious. 
It 0%’^erflows on all sides* The return of a character of comic 
invention in a second part is a hard test of originality and 
fertility, which even Don Quixote and Gil Blas^did not stand 
without some loss of the charm of our first acquaintance 
with them. Falstaff ’s humour, as well that which he exhibits 
in his character as that which he utters, is more copious, 
more luxuriously miithful, and — ^if the phrase may be allow- 
ed — more unctuous than ever. Those of his companions, 
whose acquaintance we made in the first part, lose nothing 



of their drol^ffect, and our new acquaintances, Shallow, 
Slender, etc , are still moie amusing The scenes in which 
these last figi^e give us a delightful peep into the habits of 
the rural gentry of old England, and, as mere history, are 
worth volumes of antiquarian research 

Both parts of this drama, as well as its prelude, Richard //, 
and Its sequel, present a continuous historical chain 

of revolutions, wars, conspiracies, and rebellions. Every in- 
cident is connected with some great political 'movement 
Nothing can be more picturesque, more life-like, than the 
manner in which these are put into action, or more like the 
very reality of such things, than the ruminations, motives, 
conferences, counsels, and contests of the princes and chiefs 
and their followers. Nor does the poet allow our minds to 
rest on the mere external shows ©f the hurried and crowded 
scene. He is earnest and abundant in wise moral teaching. 
The instability of all moital greatness and the emptiness of ^ 
human pomp and powei — the dread responsibility of that 
power — the base ingratitude of the great, and the fickleness 
of the masses — the independence of conscious rectitude, — 
all these, and other topics, are enforced in verses that have 
made them the lessons of youthful instruction and household 
morality wherever the language is spoken. Yet it is very 
observable that, though the facts and scenes from wbich 
these ethical teachings arise are all in some sort political, 
or connected with public transactions, the speculation or ad- 
monition is always of a personal nature, the philosophy eth- 
ical, not political, without any thing of those larger views of 
society as an organized whole, or of the conflicts of political 
principles, which may be found m the Roman dramas and 
elsewhere ; as, for example, in the eloquent didactic dialogue 
of the strangely blended Troilus and Cresstda. 

This diffeience must be ascribed, I think, chiefly to the 
different periods at which these plays were severally pro- 
duced — a circumstance which critics often overlook in their 


speculations upon Shakespeare’s opinions, as well as in those 
upon his taste, style, and knowledge It has been shown, in 
the introductory remarks, in this edition, on the plays last 
referred to, that they were written some time after the acces- 
sion of James I, when the great parliamentaiy and national 
struggle against the crown first commenced — when the royal 
authority and the rights of the people, in the republican sense 
of the term, began to be brought into collision — when the 
very principles of goveinment were openly canvassed, when 
all those elements of the great approaching conflict of radi- 
cally differing political opinions were fermenting in the pub- 
lic mind, and already entering into the popular elections. 
Although parties had not yet become finally arrayed m the 
distinct manner they became m the next reign, this state of 
things could not but familiarize the mind of a thinking man, 
however aloof from active participation in part}^ to general 
political reflection, and to make liteiary and poetical refer- 
ences to such topics, or exhibitions of such scenes, more ac- 
ceptable to the public taste Hence we find in those later 
dramas that the author looks more distinctly upon man as 
a member of a state, upon the vaiious forms of civil polity, 
and upon the conflicts of party and revolutions of govern- 
ment, as influenced by political opinion. The English his- 
torical dramas, except the last one of the series, Henry VIII ^ 
were all written under the stern and steady rule of Elizabeth, 
and the author, still young, had grown up in a state of soci- 
ety where the only question of principle which had, dunng 
the memory of that generation or their fathers, divided the 
nation was that of religious difference, their only other no- 
tion of political party being that of the conflicts of rival 
houses, or of personal ambition It is probably fortunate, 
not less for the spirited accuracy of histone delineations in 
these dramas, than for their dramatic and poetic effect, that 
this was the case. 

Even when the insurrections, revolutions, and contests 



undei the Plantagenets really involved 01 affected the piin- 
ciples of freedom, and the substantial peimanent rights and 
happiness of the subject, they did not (unless so far as the 
acquisition of Magna Charta and the subsequent appeals to 
It may be exceptions) take that form , but were struggles 
for immediate and practical objects, the redress oY^ressing 
grievances, the defence of chartered rights, or the overthrow 
of an oppiessor. The divisions and dissensions, which, like 
the Wars of the Roses, deluged England with blood, had noth- 
ing m view beyond a change of rulers or of dynasty, neither 
attaining nor looking to, in the ^^esult, any object of a truly 
public nature, and leaving nothing to the faithful chronicler 
to record but (as old Hall says) “what misery, what muider, 
and what execrable plagues this famous region hath suf- 

Into all these conflicts, calling forth high energies and ex- 
hibiting stirring scenes and a crowd of majestic personages, 
the young dramatist entered with the very spirit and sym- 
pathies of the times, naturally assimilating his mind to that 
of the men of those days, and thus painting them and their 
deeds as they showed to their own generation, not as they 
now appear to the philosophical student of history. Thus he 
vehemently asserts, m the person of Richard II and his ad- 
herents, the indefeasible, hereditary right of kings, but short- 
ly after makes the successful usurper, Bolingbroke, equally 
ready to rebuke rebellion and “hurly-burly innovation,” 
without troubling himself to discuss the truth of the doctrine, 
or the propriety of its application, in the mouth of either. 
His business was with the passions and actions of men, not 
with the principles of government ; and the Wars of the 
Roses* were more graphically and vividly described in the 
absence of any wish or design, however indirect or remote, 
to inculcate political opinion or political philosophy, of any 
sort or colour. 

At a later period, the poet generalized more, depicting, 



in Coriolayius and yidms Ccssar, the collibions of contending 
principles, or lecturing, with Ul}sses, on “ the unity and mar- 
ried calm of states.” 

\Fiom Charles Cou>clc,n Clai kts Shale^Iearc-Chauutc} s'‘'‘'^'\ 

The character of Sir John Falstaff is, I should think, the 
most witty and humoious combined that e\ei was portrayed 
So palpably is the peison presented to the mind’s eye, that 
not only do we give him a veritable location in histoi},but 
the otheis, the real characters in the peiiod, compared with 
him, appear to be the idealized people, and invented to be 
his foils and contrasts As there is no romance like the 
romance of leal life, so no real-life character comes home to 
our apprehensions and credulities like the romance of Sir 
John Falstaff. He is one giand identity His body is fitted 
for his mind — bountiful, exuberant, and luxurious, and his 
mind was well appointed for his body — being rich, ample, 
sensual, sensuous, and imaginative. The very fatness of his 
person is the most felicitous coiiespondent to the unlimited 
opulence of Ins. imagination , and but for this conjunction 
the character would have been out of keeping and incom- 
plete. Fancy a human thread-paper with Sir John’s amount 
of roguish accomplishment * No powder of reasoning could 
induce a motion of sympathy with such a compound. In 
most men, wit is the waste-pipe of their spleen in contemplat- 
ing the happiness of others, in Falstaff it is the main supply 
of a robust structure, and is the surcharge of fun and good 
temper. His wit is the offspring and heir to his love of 
laughter, the overflowing of his satisfaction with himself and 
his good terms with all men. He keeps both body and mind 
in one perpetual gaudy-day ; his is the saturnalia, the carni- 
val, of the intellect, and his body he lejoices with sack-posset, 
and his mind with jokes and roars of laughter; and with him 

^ Skakespeare-CharacterSf by Charles Cowden Clarke (London^ 1863), 

p 431 fol* 



each acts upon and with the other — the true sign of a strong 
constitution Falstaff^s is not a ‘‘clay that gets muddy with 
drink his sensuality does not sodden and brutify his fac- 
ulties, but It quickens their temper and edge. It gives wings 
to his imagination, and— to use his own words — fills it with 
“ nimble, fiery, and delectable shapes.” He is amenable to 
the charge of a host of vices, any one of winch would strand 
and shipwreck an ordinary character. He is an indicted cow- 
ard, a braggadocio, a cheat, a peculator, a swindler, and a 
liar, etc., and yet, withal, so far are we from voting him to 
Coventiy for all his delinquencies, there are few of us who 
would refuse to march through Coventry” with him, at the 
head of his scarecrows, and one reason for this tolerance — 
not to say this sleeve-laughing encouragement of his villain- 
ous courses on the part of all ranks and classes — is, that he 
himself appears to have adopted and indulged m them from 
an irrepressible love of humour and mad waggery. He is 
no hypocrite; and men, fiom instinct, and especially your 
men of the woild, can extenuate many vices rather than 
that of hypocrisy. What bold impudence in that speech! 
“ If my wind were but long enough to say my prayers, I 
would repent.” He also tells the Lord Chief- Justice — wdio 
he knows well enough knows him — that he “ lost his voice 
with hallooing and singing of anthems ” His impudence is 
sublime; and that very impudence forms no insignificant 
item in his humour , for the grand secret of Falstaff's wit, 
and humour too, consists in an impenetrable and imperturb- 
able self-possession. He proposes Bardolph — one of his 
rogues, as known as the church-steeple — to the silk-mercer 
as security for his payment He is never thrown off his 
guard ; or, if so, he is never foiled he recovers himself like 
a rope-dancer. In the famous eleven buckram-men scene, 
when the tables are turned upon him, and his scouiing-off 
laid bare, his resource is — “Do you think I did not know 
ye.^* By the Lord, I knew ye as well as he that made yc,” 



When his men, Pistol, Nym, and the rest, aie accused be- 
fore Justice Shallow of robbing Master Slender while he is 
drunk, Sir John takes upon himself to dismiss the charge 
against them with those remarkable words. “You hear all 
these matters denied^ gentlemen — you hear — the men deny 
It ” . . . 

With the genial spirit in which his sweet natuie w'as con- 
ceived, Shakespeaie contiives to throw in some dash of feel- 
ing — a motion of our common humanity — some extenuation, 
even in his worst characters, for, w^hatever they were be- 
sides, they were also men, and unmitigated evil belongs only 
to the origin of all evil — not to human nature With the 
accurate perception, however, of true moiality, he has not 
imparted to the character of Falstaff — attractue as it is for 
Its sociality, wit, humour, and imagination — any of those in- 
trinsic qualities which would set him up as an object of imi- 
tation — of course in his convivialities, his roystering, and 
other laxities ; but he has associated them with the meaner 
vices of profligacy, turning these to the fullest account in 
completing the character. Gioss as the knight is, and won- 
derfully as the poet has relieved that grossness by the most 
brilliant flashes of wit and diollery, no mortal, it is to be 
presumed, ever arose from reading the plays in which he 
shines with a less firm appreciation of the wealth of virtue 
in all Its senses , still less could any one desire to mimic his 
propensities. This cannot be said of some modern creations 
that might be instanced, which, from their sneers at sympathy 
and mutual confidence — their constant depieciation of the 
most generous feelings of our nature, inducing suspicion and 
distrust of all human profession, would go to sap the founda- 
tions of what alone can support the social fabric. 

It was requisite to our poet that the dissolute young prince 
should, in his scenes of extravagance, have immediately about 
his person companions endowed with accomplishments suffi- 
ciently eminent to induce him to “daff the world aside, and 



bid It pass ” He has, therefore, enriched Falstaff with in- 
finite wit and humour, combined, moreover, with uncommon 
sagacity and acuteness in appreciating the characters and 
dispositions of men ; but to these great qualities there is the 
set-off of degrading and even rascal propensities With tal- 
ents less brilliant, Falstaff would not have attracted Henry, 
who, historically, was himself a man of talent and quick dis- 
crimination . with less bloated profligacy he would have at- 
tached him too much, and by so doing have compromised 
the laws of civilized society, which, with well-regulated minds, 
foim also the dramatic law — to show vice her own scorn, vir- 
tue her own featuie . . . 

After Falstaff, the most perfect chaiacters in the play are 
Shallow and Silence, the Gloucestershire justices Here 
again w^e have Shakespeare’s astonishing power in individu- 
ality-portraiture. It is impossible to conceive a stronger 
contrast, a more direct antipodes in mental structure than 
he has achieved between Falstaff and Shallow, the one all 
intellect, all acuteness of perception and fancy, and the oth- 
er, the justice, a mere compound of fatuity, a caput 7nortuum 
of understanding. Not only is Shallow distinguished by his 
eternal babble, talking “ infinite nothings but with the flab- 
by vivacity, the idiotic restlessness, that not unfrequently ac- 
company this class of mind (if such a being may be said to 
possess mind at all), he not only tattles on — “ whirr, whirr, 
whirr,” like a ventilator, but he fills up the chinks in his 
sentences with repetttions^ as blacksmiths continue to tap the 
anvil in the intervals of turning the iron upon it But Shake- 
speare has presented us with a still stronger quality of asso- 
ciation in minds of Shallow’s calibre, that of asking ques- 
tions everlastingly, and instantly giving evidence that the 
replies have not sunk even skin-deep with them, rushing on 
from subject to subject, and returning again to those that 
have been dismissed. . . 

His provincial habit of life is also indicated by his con- 



stant recurrence to his metropolitan days— the '' mad days 
that he had spent at Clement’s Inn ” The idea of Shallow 
having been a roysterer at any period of his life * the very 
constitution of the man’s mind confutes his boast, without 
the testimony of FalstafF; and that is the finest burlesque 
portrait that ever was drawn. 

“This same staived justice hath done nothing but prate of the wildness 
of his youth, and the feats he hath done about Turnbull Street, and 
every third woid a lie, duer paid to the hearer than the Turk's tribute 
I do lemember him at Clement’s Inn, like a man made aftei supper of a 
cheese-panng When he was naked, he was for all the woild like a 
foiked radish, with a head fantastically car\ed upon it wuth a knife He 
was so forlorn that his dimensions to any thick sight wcie invisible he 
was the very genius of famine , you might have thrust him and all his ap- 
parel into an eel-skin — the case of a treble hautboy was a mansion for 
him — a court 

There is no point in which FalstafF’s wit glows moie brill- 
iantly than in that remarkable power of sxaggeratton, and the 
above (a portion only of the entire portrait) is a confirma- 
tory specimen 

As i£ it were not sufficient triumph for the poet to have 
achieved such a contrast as the two intellects of Falstaff and 
Shallow— in the consciousness and the opulence of unlimit- 
ed genius, he stretches the line of his invention, and produces 
a foil even to Shallow— a climax to nothing— in the nerson 
of his cousin, Silence ^ 

Silence is an embryo of a man— a molecule— a graduation 
fiom nonentity towards intellectual being— a man dwellin-^ 
in the suburbs of sense, groping about in the twilight of ap^ 
prehension and understanding. He is the second stao-e in 
ffie “Vestiges,” he has just emerged from the tadpole state. 
Here again a distinction is preserved between these two 
characters. Shallow gabbles on from mere emptiness : while 
hence, from the same incompetence, raielygets beyond the 
shortest replies. The firmament of his wonder and adoration 



are the sayings and doings of his cousin and bi other-justice 
at Clement’s Inn, and which he has been in the constant 
habit of hearing, without satiety and nausea, for half a cen- 
tury. With one of those side-wind indications for which 
Shakespeare is remarkable, we are infoimecl through Silence 
that Shallow has ever been repeating the stories of his Lon- 
don days 

Silence, That ’s fifty -five year ago ” 

^'Shallow, Ha, cousin Silence, that thou hadst seen that that this 
knight and I have seen ’ — Ha, Sir John, said I well ^ 

At another time he says, as though Silence had been now 
first introduced to him, “ I was once of Clement’s Inn, where 
I think they will talk of ‘ mad Shallpw ’ yet.” 

'‘^Silence You were called lusty Shallow then, cousin.” 

Like a provincial-bred man, also, Silence thinks no heroes 
can be so great as those of his own neighbourhood. When, 
therefore, Pistol, in announcing the death of the old king, 
says to FalstafF, “ Sweet knight, thou art one of the greatest 
men in the realm,” Silence assents from politeness, but with 
a reservation — ‘‘By ’r Lady, I think he be, but Goodman 
Puff of Barson.” Again, when they are all at dinner, and 
Silence waxes drunk, he suddenly falls to singing, so that 
Falstaff says, “I did not think Master Silence had been a 
man of this mettle.” 

“ Silence, Who, I ’ I have been merry twice and once, ere now ” 

It is noticeable, too, that even this scene of conviviality 
does not draw him out to the achievement of an entire song ; 
but he trolls out odds and ends, which he associates with the 
last words he heais in the conversation. Shallow says, “ Be 
merry. Master Bardolph: [and to Falstaff’s page] my little 
soldier there, be merry.” 

Silence, Be meriy, be merry, my wife has all 



Again, ^\hen Davy pledges Baidolph — “A cup of wine, 
— Silence chimes in with, “A cup of wine, that 's brisk 
and fine” But the cap-stone to his leveliy is when he ac- 
cepts Falstaff’s pledge to a bumpei, and the knight, patron- 
izing him, sa}^s, “Why, now^, you have done me nght 
Silence’s reply is woith a whole mint 

“Do me right, 

And dub me knight, Samingo ' 

Is V not so ^ 

‘^Fa/stoJ^ ’T IS so 

“ Sile 7 ice. Is V so ? then, say mi old mail can do somc’iohat 

So real is this extraordinary scene that even his scraps 
become shorter and shorter, at length ending in tw^o or three 
words, and when the party bieaks up, Falstaff says, “Cairy 
Master Silence to bed I” 

[Mr, F y FuTTUvalVs Inti oduction to the Play 

The Second Part of Henry IV, is not up to the spirit and 
freshness of the First Part, all continuations do fail off, and 
this is no exception to the rule. How are Hotspur and the 
first impressions of Falstaff to be equalled ^ Even Shallow 
cannot make up for them. There ’s a quieter tone, too, m 
this Part //, though the rhetorical speeches are still kept 
up by Northumberland and Mowbray. The King leads, not 
at the head of his army, but in his quiet progress to the 
grave. The most striking speech in the play is Henry the 
Fourth’s on sleep — ^to be set against Hotspur’s fiery words 
in Pa?i L And as illustrating the change in Shakspere’s 
manner of work as he giew, let us set this sleep-speech of the 
Second Period against the sleep-speech of the Third Period 

“ How many thousand of my poorest subjects 
Are at this hour asleep ’ — Sleep, gentle sleep, 

Natuie’s soft nurse, how have I frighted thee, 

That thou no more wiU weigh my eyelids down, 

* The Leopold Shakspeie (London, 1877), p xlviii fol. 



And steep my senses in forgetfulness ? 

Why lather, sleep, best thou in smoky cribs, 

Upon uneasy pallets sketching thee, 

And hush’d with buzzing night-flies to thy slumber, 

Than m the perfum’d chambers of the great, 

Under the canopies of costly state, 

And lull’d with sounds of sweetest melody ^ 

O thou dull god, why liest thou with the vile 
In loathsome beds, and leav’st the kingly couch 
A watch-case, 01 a common iarum bell ? 

Wilt thou upon the high and giddy mast 
Seal up the ship-boy’s eyes, and rock his brains 
In aadle of the rude imperious surge, 

And m the visitation of the winds, 

Who take the ruifian billows by the top. 

Culling then monstrous heads and hanging them 
With deaf’mng clamour in the slippeiy clouds. 

That, with the hurly, death itself awakes ? 

Can’st thou, O partial sleep, give thy repose 
To the wet sea-boy m an hour so rude , 

And, m the calmest and most stillest night, 

With all appliances and means to boot, 

Deny it to a king ^ Then, happy low, He down I 
Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.” 

Macbeth Methought I heard a voice ciy, Sleep no more! 
Macbeth does murther sleep f the innocent sleep ; 

Sleep, that knits up the ravell’d sleave of care, 

The death of each day’s life, sore labour’s bath, 

Balm of hurt minds, great nature’s second course. 

Chief nourisher in life’s feast” 

Note in the Second Period the single idea and its elabo- 
ration, though justified by Henry’s meditative mood, with the 
many short, pregnant metaphors of the Third Period, each 
left to the hearer’s own mind to work out, quite in Shak- 
spere’s later budding style — ^seven metaphors in four lines. 
Yet surely Macbeth might well have expanded his thoughts. 
Any man less filled with his subject, less crowded with 
thought, than Shakspere, any man like the writer of Edward 
///, would surely have availed himself of this splendid chance 


to show off” The contrast of Duncan, wrapt in sleep s se- 
curity, yet pierced with niuidei^s knife, the contrast of inno- 
cent sleep with the guilty deed, its balm his bale, its nourish- 
ment his poison, would have tempted a smaller man — but 
not Shakspere in his Third Period Each metaphor has its 
touch, and then off In Be?try IV,, Fart //., the lower rank 
of people come more to the front. We’ve moie piominence 
than before given to the low tavein-life, the country squire 
and his servants, the administration of justice in town and 
country which Shakspere’s long expeiience made him sneer 
at, as against the knightly life of the former Part, notwith- 
standing Its carriers This prepaies us for the fuller sketches 
of contemporaiy middle-class life in The Merry Wives The 
chief characters of Fart L are further developed. Though 
the hand of sickness is on the King, yet “ Ready, aye ready” 
is still his word ; and as soon as Hotspur is beaten, another 
army marches against Northumberland and the Archbishop, 
whose two separate rebellions Shakspere has put into one. 
But his cares tell on him : the chronicler Hall calls his reign 
the ‘^unquiete tyme of Kyng Henry the Fourth.” His mind 
goes back o^er the troublous past, thinks on his old close 
friendship with his now foe Northumberland, and the dead 
Richard’s prophecy of their falling out And as the past 
has little to comfort him, so the future has less His son’s 
going back, like a sow to wallow again in the mire, cuts him 
to the heart, as soveieign even more than as father — 

** O my poor kingdom, sick with civil blows ! 

When that my caie could not withhold thy riots, 

What wilt thou do when not is thy care ^ 

O, thou wilt be a wilderness again, 

Peopled with wolves, thy old inhabitants ’’’ 

Was it for this that he ’d suffered exile, risked his life, won 
England, and held it with his strong right hand ? Surely a 
pathetic figure — the strong man worn with care, disappointed 
in his dearest wish, the labour of his life made vain Still, 



comfort was to come, the son who once before won back 
his father’s willingly forgiving heait, again spoke woids that 
again at-oned them. And m the King’s last speech to his 
gallant heir we see the man’s whole nature — wily to win, 
strong to hold, a purpose m all he did , not perhaps a hero, 
but a ruler and a king, a father too Such political lesson 
as Shakspere preached in these plays was, that though, 
like Elizabeth’s crown, the succession to it might not be 
clear, the way to hold it was to govern strongly and well, 
and that the sovereign must not only attack his foes at home, 
but unite the nation by foreign w'ar, as Henry V , Napoleon, 
Cavour, and Bismarck did. For Prince Hal we have one 
unw'oithy scene, two worthy ones The shadow of his fa- 
ther’s death-sickness is on him, and he goes for relief— half 
disgusted with himself — (feeling that every one would call 
him a hypocrite if he looked soiry) to his old, loose compan- 
ions. But there ’s not much enjoyment in his forced mirth. 
He feels ashamed of himself, and soon leaves Falstaff and 
his old life forever — “ let the end try the man,” as he says. 
It is clear that he now feels the degiadation of being Fal- 
staff’s friend and Poins’s reputed brother-in-law On hearing 
of the war again, as in Part /, he changes at a touch, and 
is himself. The next time we see him is by his father’s sick- 
bed, and again he wins to him his fathei’s heart. But surely 
by a bit of F'alstafF-like cleverness and \vant of truth Com- 
pare his first speech to the crown with his second giving an 
account of it to his father. But one part of that first speech 
he meant: that he ’d hold his crown against the world’s 
whole strength; and that ’was what King Henry wanted. 
When Hal becomes king, his treatment of his brothers, the 
Chief-Justice, and Falstafif is surely wise and right, in all 
three cases One does feel for Falstaff, but certainly what 
be ought to have had he got — the chance of reformation. 
What other reception could Henry, in the midst of his new 
state, give in public to the duty, slovenly, debauched, old 


Sinner who thrust himself upon him, than the rebuke he did ? 
Any other course would have rendeied the king’s own pro- 
fessed reform absurd 

In Falstaff we have in this Fart II the old wit and hu- 
mour, the old slippeiiness when seemingly caught, the old 
mastery over every one, till the triumph should come, when 
comes catastrophe instead But we have more of the sharp- 
er, the cheat, the preyer on otheis (the hostess, Shallow, the 
soldiers at the choosing), brought out. The shpperiness 
IS seen in his answers to the Chief-Justice’s attendant, the 
Chief- Justice himself, the hostess, Prince Hal, and Doll 
(His excuse foi dispiaising Hal before Doll is lepeated by 
Parolles for abusing Beitram to Diana in All V Well) The 
scenes with Shallow and Silence, and the choice of soldiers, 
are of course beyond the reach of praise We cannot help 
noting the use that the old rascal meant to make of his 
power over the young king . 

Let us take any man’s horses ; the laws of England are at my com- 
mandment Happy are they which have been my fi lends, and woe unto 
my lord chief-justice !” 

His end here is imprisonment for a time; and worse, to be 
chaffed by Shallow the despised, and not return it. This 
prepares us for his fate in The Merry Wives, The moral is 
the same as that of love’s Labours Lost What is mere wit 
so valued by mer^really worth ? Wit 

Whose influence is begot of that loose giace 

Which shallow, laughing hearers give to fools ” 

" The rogues,” says Miss Constance O’Brien, “ all come 
to a bad end. Falstaff dies in obscure poverty, Nym and 
Bardolph get hung in France, Pistol is stripped of his brag- 
gart honour, and even the ‘ boy and the luggage,’ as Fluellen 
puts it, are killed together. Poms alone, the best of the set, 
vanishes silently, without a word as^to his fate, and so that 
wild crew bieaks up and disappears, leaving the world to 



laugh over them and their leadei forever (If Falstaff was 
drawn from a living man, that man must have been a little 
Irish; no puiely English brains work quite so fast)’' The 
contemporary allusions are still kept up in this play. We 
have the landlady's disjointed talk, which Dickens has re- 
produced for us Victorians, the Wincot of The Shrew Induc- 
tion again, the tradesmen who “ now wear nothing but high 
shoes and bunches of keys at their girdles,’^ the coming in 
of glass drinking-vessels for silver ones, specially noted by 
Harrison, the Thames tide in ii. 3. 63, as m the Rape of 
Zucrecep[ the University and Inns of Court, the school-boys' 
breaking-up, the Cotswold man. All through, the play is 
Shakspere's England. One Amurath succeeded another m 
1596 We may also notice the dwelling on special words, 
as “security,” “accommodate,” “rebellion,” like Falcon- 
bridge's “commodity,” and Lucrece's “opportunity.” 

^ See Harmon's Descnphon of England^ edited by F J Furmvall 
(published by the New Shakspere Society, 1877), p. 147 . — Ed 

t See R, of L. 1667* “As through an aich the violent roaring tide/’ 
which was evidently suggested by the tide running through Old London 
Bridge — Ed. 


Rumodr, the Presenter 
King Henk\ the Fouith 

Prince John ot Lane istei, } hus sons 

Prince Hi mphrf\ ot Gloucester^ } 

Earl of Westmoreland 
Earl of Surre\ 


Loid Chief-Justice of the King’s Bench 
A Servant ot the Chief -Justice 
Earl of Northumberland 
Scroop, Aichbishop of Yoik 
Lord Mowbray 
Lord Hastings 
Lord Bardolph 
Sir John Colevile 

of Northnntbetland 

His Page 

Shallow, ) ^ ^ 

Silence, f <^o«ntry justices 

pAvy, Servant to Shallow 

FANoSk&TsSrs «oru.ts 

Lady Northumberland 
Lady Percy 

W ” ==‘^‘0''«P 

Lords and Attendants, Porter, Drawers, Beadles, Grooms, &c 
A Dancer, speaker of the Epilogue. 

Scene Mttgland 

Warkwortk, Before the Castle. 

Enter 'Kyrniom, painted full of tongues. 

Rumour. Open your ears; for which of you will stop 
The vent of hearing when loud Rumour speaks? 

I, from the orient to the diooping west, 

Making the wind my post-horse, still unfold 
The acts commenced on this ball of earth. 

Upon my tongues continual slanders ride, 

The which in every language I pronounce, 




Stuffing the eais of men with false repoits 
I speak of peace, while co\eit enmity 

Under the smile of safet} wounds the world; to 

And who but Rumour, who but only I, 

Make feaiful musters and piepai’d defence, 

Whiles the big year, swoln with some other grief, 

Is thought wath child b} the stern tyrant war, 

And no such mattei ? Rumour is a pipe 
Blown by surmises, jealousies, conjectures, 

And of so easy and so plain a stop 

That the blunt monster with uncounted heads, 

The still-discordant wavering multitude, 

Can play upon it — But what need I thus a© 

My well-known body to anatomize 

Among my household ? Why is Rumour here ? 

I run before King Harry’s victory ; 

Who in a bloody field by Shrewsbury 

Hath beaten down young Hotspur and his tioops, 

Quenching the flame of bold rebellion 

Even with the rebels’ blood But what mean I 

To speak so true at first ? my office is 

To noise abroad that Harry Monmouth fell 

Under the wrath of noble Hotspur’s sword, 30 

And that the king before the Douglas’ rage 

Stoop’d his anointed bead as low as death. 

This have I rumour’d through the peasant towns 
Between that royal field of Shrewsbury 
And this worm-eaten hold of ragged stone, 

Where Hotspur’s fathe.r, old Northumberland, 

Lies crafty-sick, the posts come tiring on, 

And not a man of them brings other news 

Than they have learn’d of me , from Rumour’s tongues 39 

They bring smooth comforts false, w’orse than true wrongs. 

Paul’s walk 

I bought him in Paul’s (i 2 48) 


Scene I. The Same, 

Elder Lord Bardolph 

Lord Eardo^h Who keeps the gate here, ho ? — 

The Portei oJ>e/is Be gate 

Where is the earl > 

Porter. What shall I say you are ? 


Lord Bardolph Tell thou the earl 

That the Lord Baidolph doth attend him here 

Potter. His loidship is walk’d foith into the orchard; 
Please it your honoui, knock but at the gate, 

And he himself will answer 

*Enter Northumberland. 

Lord Bardolph. Here comes the eat I. 

[Exit Porter. 

Northumberland What news, Loid Bardolph^ every min- 
ute now 

Should be the father of some stratagem. 

The times are wild; contention, like a hoise 
Full of high feeding, madly hath broke loose lo 

And bears down all before him 
Lord Bardolph Noble eail, 

I bring you ceitain news from Shrewsbuiy. 

Northumberland Good, an God will 1 
Lord Bardolph. As good as heart can wish. 

The king is almost w^ounded to the death, 

And, in the fortune of my lord your son, 

Prince Harry slain outright , and both the Blunts 
Kill’d by the hand of Douglas, young Prince John 
And Westmoreland and Staffoid fled the field, 

And Harry Monmouth’s biawn, the hulk Sir John, 

Is pusoner to your son. O, such a da}, so 

So fought, so follow’d, and so fairly won, 

Came not till now to dignify the times, 

Since Caesar’s fortunes’ 

Northumberland How is this deiiv’d^ 

Saw you the fields came you fiom Shrewsbuiy? 

Lord Bardolph. I spake with one, my lord, that came fiom 

A gentleman well bred and of good name, 

That freely render’d me these news for true. 



Northufnberlmid. Here comes my seivant Travers, whom 
I sent 

On Tuesday last to listen after news. 

Enter Iravers 

Lord Bardolph, My lord, I over-rode him on the way , 3° 
And he is furnish’d with no certainties 
More than he haply may retail from me 
Northumberland, Now, Travers, what good tidings comes 
with you ^ 

Travers My lord. Sir John Umfrevile turn d me back 
With joyful tidings , and, being better hors’d, 

Out-rode me. After him came spurring haid 
A gentleman, almost forspent with speed, 

That stopp’d by me to breathe his bloodied hoise. 

He ask’d the way to Chester, and of him 
I did demand what news from Shrewsbury. 40 

He told me that rebellion had bad luck. 

And that young Harry Percy’s spur was cold 
With that, he gave his able horse the head. 

And bending forward struck his armed heels 
Against the panting sides of his poor jade 
Up to the rowel-head, and starting so 
He seem’d in running to devour the way, 

Staying no longer question. 

Northumberland Ha ! — Again. 

Said he young Harry Percy’s spur was cold ? 

Of Hotspur, Coldspur? that rebellion s® 

Had met ill luck ? 

Lord Bardolph My lord, I ’ll tell you what ; 

If my young lord your son have not the day, 

Upon mine honour, for a silken point 
I ’ll give my barony never talk of it 
Northumberlafid Why should that gentleman that lode by 

Give then such instances of loss? 


Lord Bardolph, Who, he ^ 

He was some hilding fellow that had stolen 
The horse he rode on, and, upon my life, 

Spoke at a ventme. Look, heie comes moie news so 

Eriter Morton. 

Northumhefdand. Yea, this man’s brow, like to a title* leaf, 
Foretells the natuie of a tragic volume; 

So looks the stiand vvheieon the imperious flood 
Hath left a witness’d usuipation — 

Say, Moiton, didst thou come fiom Shrewsbuiy ? 

Morton I ran fiom Shrewsbuiy, my noble loid; 

Where hateful death put on his ugliest mask 
To fright our part}^ 

Northwnberland How doth my son and bi other 
Thou tremblest, and the whiteness in thy cheek 
Is apter than thy tongue to tell thy errand 
Even such a man, so faint, so spiritless, , 70 

So dull, so dead in look, so woe-begone, 

Drew Priam’s curtain in the dead of night, 

And would have told him half his Troy was burnt, 

But Priam found the file ere he his tongue. 

And I my Percy’s death ere thou report’st it 
This thou wouldst say, ‘Your son did thus and thus. 

Your brother thus; so fought the noble Douglas,’ 

Stopping my greedy ear with their bold deeds : 

But in the end, to stop mine ear indeed, 

Thou hast a sigh to blow away this piaise, so 

Ending with ‘Brothei, son, and all aie dead.’ 

Morton. Douglas is living, and your brother, yet; 

But, for my lord your son, — 

Northumberland. Why, he is dead. 

See what a ready tongue suspicion hath ! 

He that but fears the thing he would not know 
Hath by instinct knowledge from otheis’ eyes 



That what he fear’d is chanced. Yet speak, Morton , 

Tell thou an earl his divination lies, 

And I will take it as a sweet disgrace, 

And make thee rich for doing me such wrong -go 

Morton, You are too great to be by me gainsaid , 

Your spirit is too true, your fears too certain. 

Northimiberland, Yet, for all this, say not that Percy ’s 
dead. — 

I see a strange confession in thine eye ; 

Thou shak’st thy head, and hold’st it fear or sin 
To speak a truth If he be slain, say so ; 

The tongue offends not that reports his death 
And he doth sin that doth belie the dead, 

Not he which says the dead is not alive. 

Yet the first bnnger of unwelcome news loo 

Hath but a losing office, and his tongue 
Sounds ever after as a sullen bell, 

Remember’d knolling a departing friend. 

Lord Bardolph, I cannot think, my lord, your son is dead. 
Morton, I am sorry I should force you to believe 
That which I would to God I had not seen ; 

But these mine eyes saw him in bloody state. 

Rendering faint quittance, wearied and out-breath’d. 

To Many Monmouth, whose swift wrath beat down 
The never-daunted Percy to the earth, 

From whence with life he never more spiung up. 

In few, his death, whose spirit lent a fire 
Even to the dullest peasant in his camp, 

Being bruited once, took fii e and heat away 
From the best-temper’d courage in his troops ; 

For from his metal was his party steel’d, 

Which once in him abated, all the rest 
Turn’d on themselves, like dull and heavy lead; 

And as the thing that ’s heavy in itself, 

Updn enforcement flies with greatest speed, 




So did our men, heavy in Hotspur^ lobS, 

Lend to this weight such lightness with then fear 
That anows fled not swiftei towaid their aim 
Than did our soldiers, aiming at their safety, 

Fly fiom the field Then w^as that noble Worcestei 
Too soon ta’en prisoner^ and that fmious Scot, 

The bloody Douglas, whose well-labouiing swoid 
Had three times slam the appearance of the king, 

Gan vail his stomach and did grace the shame 

Of those that turn’d their backs, and in his flight, ijg 

Stumbling in feai, was took. The sum of all 

Is that the king hath won, and hath sent out 

A speedy power to encounter you, my lord, 

Under the conduct of young Lancaster 
And Westmoreland This is the news at full 
Nortkumherlaiid For this I shall have time enough to 

In poison there is physic; and these news, 

Having been well, that would have made me sick, 

Being sick, have in some measure made me well 

And as the wretch, whose fever-weaken’d joints, 140 

Like strengthless hinges, buckle under life. 

Impatient of his fit, breaks like a fire 
Out of his keeper’s aims, even so my limbs, 

Weaken’d with grief, being now enrag’d with grief, 

Are thrice themselves Hence, therefore, thou nice crutch * 

A scaly gauntlet now with joints of steel 

Must glo\ e this hand , and hence, thou sickly quoif I 

Thou art a guard too w'^anton for the head 

Which princes, flesh’d with conquest, aim to hit. 

Now bind my brows with iron, and approach 150 

The ragged’st hour that time and spite dare bring 
To frown upon the enrag’d Northumberland I 
Let heaven kiss earth ? now let not Nature’s hand* 

Keep the wild flood confin’d! let order die ! 



And let this world no longer be a stage 
To feed contention in a lingering act ; 

But let one spirit of the first-born Cam 
Reign in all bosoms, that, each heart being set 
On bloody courses, the rude scene may end, 

And darkness be the burier of the dead 1 160 

Travers This strained passion doth you wrong, my lord 
Lord Bardolph Sweet earl, divorce not wisdom from your 

Morton. The lives of all your loving complices 
Lean on your health ; the which, if you give o’er 
To stormy passion, must perfoice decay. 

You cast the event of w^ar, my noble lord. 

And summ’d the account of chance, before you said 
‘ Let us make head.’ It w^as your presurmise, 

That, in the dole of blows, your son might drop 

You knew he walk’d o’er perils, on an edge, 170 

More likely to fall in than to get o’er , 

You were advis’d his flesh was capable 
Of wounds and scars, and that his forward spirit 
Would lift him where most trade of danger rang’d . 

Yet did you say ‘ Go forth / and none of this, 

Though strongly apprehended, could restrain 
The stiff'borne action What hath then befdllen, 

Or what hath this bold enterprise brought forth, 

More than that being which was like to be ? 

Lord Bardolph We all that are engaged to this loss iSo 
Knew that we ventur’d on such dangerous seas 
That if we wrought our life ’t was ten to one , 

And yet we ventur’d, for the gain propos’d 
Chok’d the respect of likely peril fear’d ; 

And since we are o’erset, venture again. 

Come, we will all put forth, body and goods 
Norton. ’T is more than time ; and, my most noble lord. 

I hear for certain, and do speak the truth, 



The gentle Aichbishop of Yoik is up 

With well-appointed powers he is a man igo 

Who with a double suiety binds his followers 

My lord your son had only but the corpse, 

But shadows and the shows of men, to fight, 

For that same word, rebellion, did divide 
The action of their bodies from their souls, 

And they did fight with queasiness, constrained, 

As men drink potions, that their weapons only 
Seem’d on our side , but, for their spirits and souls. 

This word, lebellion, it had fioze them up. 

As fish are in a pond. But now the bishop 300 

Turns insurrection to religion : 

Suppos’d sincere and holy in his thoughts, 

He ’s follow’d both with body and with mind, 

And doth enlarge his rising with the blood 
Of fair King Richard, scrap’d from Pomfret stones , 

Deiives from heaven his quanel and his cause, 

Tells them he doth bestride a bleeding land, 

Gasping for life under great Bolingbroke , 

And more and Jess do flock to follow him, 

Northumberland. I knew of this before \ but, to speak 
truth, 210 

This present grief had wip’d it from my mind. 

Go in with me, and counsel every man 
The aptest way for safety and revenge. 

Get posts and letteis, and make friends with speed; 

Never so few, and never yet more need. {Exeunt 

Scene II. London A Street 
Enter Falstaff, with his Page hearing his sword and buckler 

Falstaff Sirrah, you giant, what says the doctor to my 
water ? 

Page He said, sir, the water itself was a good healthy 

ACT /. SCENE 11 


water ; but, for the party that owed it, he might have more 
diseases than he knew for 

Falstaff. Men of all sorts take a pride to gird at me , the 
brain of this foohsh-compounded clay, man, is not able to 
invent any thing that tends to laughter, more than I invent 
or is invented on me : I am not only witty in myself, but the 
cause that wit is in other men I do here walk before thee 
like a sow that hath overwhelmed all her litter but one. If 
the prince put thee into my service for any other reason 
than to set me off, why then I have no judgment. Thou 
whoreson mandrake, thou art fitter to be worn in my cap 
than to wait at my heels I was never manned with an agate 
till now , but I will inset you neither in gold noi silver, but 
in vile appaiel, and send you back again to your master, for 
a j'ewel, — the juvenal, the prince your master, whose chin is 
not yet fledged. I will sooner have a beard grow in the 
palm of my hand than he shall get one on his cheek ; and 
yet he will not stick to say his face is a face-royal. God 
may finish it when he will, ’t is not a hair amiss yet • he may 
keep it still at a face-royal, for a barber shall never earn six- 
pence out of it ; and yet he ’ll be crowing as if he had writ 
man ever since his father w^as a bachelor He may keep 
his own grace, but he ’s almost out of mine, I can assure 
him. What said Master Dombledon about the satin for my 
short cloak and my slops ? 28 

Page, He said, sir, you should procure him better assui- 
ance than Bardolph • be would not take his band and yours , 
he liked not the security. 

Falstaff, Let him be damned, like the glutton i pray God 
his tongue be hotter ! . A whoreson Achitophel ! a rascally 
yea-forsooth knave ^ to bear a gentleman in hand, and then 
statid upon security * The whoreson smooth-pates do now 
'wteat nothing but high shoes, and bunches of keys at their 
.girdles ; and if a man is through with them in honest taking 
up, then they must stand upon security. I had as lief they 



would put ratbbane in my mouth as oftei to stop it with se- 
curity I looked a’ should ha\e sent me two and tw'enly 
yards of satin, as I am a true knight, and he sends me se- 
cunty. Well, he may sleep in secuiity, foi he hath the 
horn of abundance, and the lightness of his w'lfe shines 
through It and yet cannot he see, though he have his own 
lanthorn to light him Where ’s Bardolph ^ 45 

Hage He ’s gone into Smithfield to buy your worship a 

Falstaff I bought him in Paul's, and he ’ll buy me a horse 
in Smithfield; an I could get me but a wife in the stews, I 
were manned, horsed, and wived 50 

Enter the Lord Chief-Justice and Servant 

Page Sir, here comes the nobleman that committed the 
prince for striking him about Bardolph 
Falstaff Wait close , I wnll not see him 
Chief -Justice. What ’s he that goes theie^ 

Servant Falstaff, an ’t please your lordship 
Chief -Justice He that was in question for the robbery? 
Servant He, my lord ; but he hath since done good ser- 
vice at Shrewsbury, and, as I hear, is now going with some 
charge to the Lord John of Lancaster. 

Chief -Justice. What, to York ^ Call him back again 60 
Servant Sii John Falstaff* 

Falstaff Boy, tell him I am deaf. 

Page You must speak louder , my master is deaf 
Chief -Justice. I am sure he is, to the hearing of any 
thing good.— Go, pluck him by the elbow, I must speak 
with him. 

Servant Sir John I 

Falstaff. What * a young knave, and begging! Is there 
not wars ? is there not empio3^ment ? doth not the king lack 
subjects? do not the rebels need soldiers? Though it be a 
shame to be on any side but one, it is worse shame to besr 



than to be on the worst side, were it worse than the name 
of rebellion can tell how to make it 73 

Servant You mistake me, sir. 

Falstaff Why, sir, did I say you weie an honest man ^ 
setting my knighthood and my soldiership aside, I had lied 
in my throat, if I had said so 

Servant I pray you, sir, then set your knighthood and your 
soldiership aside 3 and give me leave to tell you, you lie m 
your throat, if you say I am any other than an honest man. 

Falstaff. I give thee leave to tell me so ^ I lay aside that 
which grows to me * If thou gettest any leave of me, hang 
me 3 if thou takest leave, thou wert bettei be hanged. You 
hunt counter , hence ’ avaunt * 84 

Servant Sii, my lord would speak with you 
Chief- Justice Sir John FalstafF, a word with you 
Falstaff My good lord! God give your lordship good 
time of day. I am glad to see your loidship abroad, I 
heard say your lordship was sick» I hope your lordship goes 
abroad by advice. Your lordship, though not clean past 
your youth, hath yet some smack of age in you, some relish 
of the saltness of time 3 and I most humbly beseech your 
lordship to have a reverent care of your health. 93 

Chief- Justice, Sir John, I sent for you before your expedi- 
tion to Shrewsbury, 

Falstaff, An 't please your lordship, I hear his majesty is 
returned with some discomfort from Wales. 

Chief- Justice, I talk not of his majesty 3 you w^ould not 
come when I sent for you. 

Falstaff, And I hear, moreover, his highness is fallen into 
this same whoreson apoplexy. loi 

Chief- Justice, Well, God mend him ! I pray you, let me 
speak with you. 

Falstaff, This apoplexy is, as I take it, a kind of lethargy, 
an please your lordship 3 a kind of sleeping in the blood, 
a whoreson tingling. 


Chief -Justice. What tell you me of it? be it as it is. 
Falstaff It hath it original from much grief, fi om study 
and perturbation of the biain • I have lead the cause of his 
effects in Galen , it is a kind of deafness no 

Chief -Justice. I think you aie fallen into the disease, for 
you hear not what I say to you 

Falstajf. Very well, my lord, veiy well; rather, an please 
you, it IS the disease of not listening, the malady of not 
marking, that I am troubled withaL 

Chief- Justice. To punish you by the heels would amend 
the attention of your ears ; and I care not if I do become 
your physician. 

Falstajf. I am as poor as Job, my loid, but not so patient* 
your lordship may minister the potion of imprisonment to 
me in respect of poverty , but how I should be your patient 
to follow your prescriptions, the wise may make some dram 
of a scruple, or indeed a scruple itself. taa 

Chief- Justice. I sent for you, when there were matters 
against you for your life, to come speak with me. 

Falstaff. As I was then advised by my learned counsel m 
the laws of this land-service, I did not come. 

Chief- Justice. Well, the truth is, Sir John, you live in great 

Falstaff. He that buckles him in my belt cannot live in less. 
Chief- Justice. Your means are very slender, and your waste 
is gieat. i 3 st 

Falstaff. I would it were otherwise; I would my means 
were greater, and my waist slenderer. ^ 

Chief-Justice. You have misled the youthful prince. 
Falstaff. The young prince hath misled me; I am the fel- 
low with the great belly, and he my dog. 

Chief -Justice Well, I am loath to gall a new -healed 
wound : your day’s service at Shrewsbury hath a little gild- 
ed over your night’s exploit on Gadshill; you may thank 
the unquiet time for your quiet o’m--ppsting4hat action. 

ACT /. SCENE 11 


Falstaff My lord ^ 142 

Chief -yusti€e. But since all is well, keep it soj wake not 
a sleeping wolf. 

Falstajf, To wake a wolf is as bad as to smell a fox. 

Chief -Justice. What ! you are as a candle, the better part 
burnt out. 

Falstajf A wassail candle, my lord, all tallow ; if I did say 
of wax, my growth would approve the truth. 

Chief -Justice. There is not a white hair on your face but 
should have his effect of gravity. 

Falstaff His effect of gravy, gravy, gravy 152 

Chief -Justice You follow the young prince up and down, 
like his ill angel. 

Falstaff. Not so, my lord, your ill angel is light, but I 
hope he that looks upon me wull take me without weighing 
and yet, in some respects, I grant, I cannot go, I cannot tell. 
Virtue is of so little regard in these costermonger times that 
true valour is turned bear-herd ; pregnancy is made a tapster, 
and hath his quick wit wasted in giving reckonings ; all the 
other gifts appertment to man, as the malice of this age 
shapes them, are not worth a gooseberry You that are old 
consider not the capacities of us that are young; you meas- 
ure the heat of our livers wuth the bitterness of }our galls : 
and we that are in the vaward of our youth, I must confess, 
are wags too. 166 

Chief -Justice. Do you set down your name in the scroll 
of youth, that are written down old with all the characters 
of age ? Have you not a moist eye ? a dry hand ? a yellow 
cheek > a white beard ? a decreasing leg ? an increasing bel- 
ly? IS not your voice broken? your wind short? your chin 
double ? your wit single ? and every part about you blasted 
with antiquity? and will you yet call yourself young! Fie, 
he, he, Sir John ! 174 

Falstaff. My lord, I was born about three of the clock in 
the afternoon, with a white head and something a round 


belly. For my voice, I have lost it with hallooing and sing- 
ing of anthems. To approve my youth further, I will not 
the truth is, I am only old in judgment and understanding; 
and he that will caper with me for a thousand marks, let him 
lend me the money, and have at him ’ Foi the box of the 
ear that the prince gave you, he gave it like a rude piince, 
and you look it like a sensible loid I have checked him 
for it, and the young lion lepents, marr}^, not in ashes and 
sackcloth, but in new silk and old sack 

Chief- justice Well, God send the pnnce a bettei compan- 
ion ^ 

Falstaff God send the companion a better pnnce ! I can- 
not rid my hands of him 189 

Chief -yustia Well, the king hath severed you and Prince 
Harry, I hear you are going with Lord John of Lancaster 
against the Archbishop and the Earl of Northumberland 
Falstaff, Yea , I thank your pretty sweet wit for it. But 
look you pray, all you that kiss my lady Peace at home, that 
our armies join not in a hot day , for, by the Lord, I take but 
two shirts out with me, and I mean not to sweat extraordina- 
rily : if It be a hot day, and I brandish any thing but a bot- 
tle, I would I might never spit white again. There is not a 
dangerous action can peep out his head but I am thrust upon 
It : well, I cannot last ever , but it was alway yet the trick of 
our English nation, if they have a good thing, to make it too 
common. If ye will needs say I am an old man, you should 
give me rest I would to God my name were not so terrible 
to the enemy as it is ; I were better to be eaten to death 
with a rust than to be scoured to nothing with perpetual mo- 
tion 206 

Chief -Justice Well, be honest, be honest, and God bless 
your expedition * 

Falstaff Will your lordship lend me a thousand pound to 
furnish me forth ? 

Chief- Justice Not a penny, not a penny; you are too im- 



patient to bear crosses Fare you well, commend me to my 
cousin Westmoreland \Exeunt Chief -yustice and Servant 

Falstaff, If I do, fillip me with a three-man beetle A 
man can no more separate age and covetousness than a’ can 
part young limbs and lechery. — Boy * 216 

Page, Sir? 

Falstaff What money is in my purse ? 

Page, Seven groats and two pence 
Falstaff, I can get no remedy against this consumption of 
the purse ; borrowing only lingers and lingers it out, but the 
disease is incurable. Go bear this lettei to my Lord of Lan- 
caster, this to the prince, this to the Fail of Westmoreland , 
and this to old Misti ess Uisula, whom I have weekly sworn 
to mairy since I perceived the first white hair on my chin. 
About it ; you know where to find me — [Fxit Page ] A pox 
of this gout * T IS no matter if I do halt, I have the wars 
for my colour, and my pension shall seem the more reasona- 
ble. A good wit will make use of any thing; I will turn dis- 
eases to commodity. {Exit 

Scene III. York, The Archbishofs Palace 
Enter the Archbishop, the Lords Hastings, Mowbray, and 

Archbishop, Thus have you heard our cause and known 
our means , 

And, my most noble friends, I pray you all, 

Speak plainly your opinions of our hopes : 

And first, lord marshal, what say you to it ? 

Mowbray, I well allow the occasion of our arms, 

But gladly would' be better satisfied 
Plow in our means we should advance ourselves 
To look with forehead bold and big enough 
Upon the power and puissance of the king 
Hastings Oui piesent musters grow upon the file jo 




To five and Uventy thousand men of choice, 

And our supplies live laigely in the hope 
Of great Northumberland, whose bosom burns 
With an incensed fire of injmies. 

Lord Bardolph. The question then, Lord Hastings, stand- 
eth thus, — 

Whether our present five and twenty thousand 
May hold up head without Northumberland ? 

Hastings. With him, we may. 

Lo7'd Bardolph. Yea, mairy, there ’s the point 

But if without him we be thought too feeble. 

My judgment is, we should not step too far ao 

Till we had his assistance by the hand; 

For in a theme so bloody-fac’d as this, 

Conjecture, expectation, and suimise 
Of aids incertam should not be admitted 
Archbishop. T is very true, Lord Baidolph, for indeed 
It was young Hotspur’s case at Shrewsbury. 

Lord Bardolph. It was, my lord , who lin’d himself with 

Eating the au on promise of supply, 

Flattering himself in project of a power 
Much smaller than the smallest of his thoughts; 

And so, with gieat imagination 
Proper to madmen, led his powers to death 
And winking leap’d into destruction 

Hastings. But, by your leave; it never yet did hurt 
To lay down likelihoods and forms of hope. 

Lord Bardolph. Yes, in this present quality of war : 
Indeed the instant action — a cause on foot — 

Lives so in hope as in an early spring 
We see the appearing buds ; which to prove fruit, 

Hope gives not so much warrant as despair 
That frosts will bite them. When we mean to build, 

We first survey the plot, then draw the model , 



5 ^ 

And when we see the figure of the house, 

Then must we rate the cost of the erection , 

Which if we find outweighs ability, 

What do we then but draw anew the model 

In fewer offices, or at least desist 

To build at all ? Much more, in this great work. 

Which IS almost to pluck a kingdom down 

And set another up, should we survey 50 

The plot of situation and the model. 

Consent upon a sure foundation, 

Question suiveyors, know our own estate, 

How able such a work to undergo. 

To weigh against his opposite , or else 
We fortify in paper and in figures, 

Using the names of men instead of men : 

Like one that draws the model of a house 
Beyond his power to build it, who, half through, 

Gives o^er and leaves his part-created cost 60 

A naked subject to the weeping clouds 
And waste for churlish winter’s tyranny. 

Hastings, Grant that our hopes, yet likely of fair birth. 
Should be still-born, and that w^e now^ possess’d 
The utmost man of expectation, 

I think we are a body strong enough. 

Even as we are, to equal with the king. 

Lord Bardolph, What, is the king but five and twenty 
thousand ? 

Hastings, To us no more; nay, not so much, Lord Bar- 

For his divisions, as the times do brawl, 70 

Are in three heads : one power against the French, 

And one against Glen dower, perforce a third 
Must take up us So is the unfirm king 
In three divided , and his coffers sound 
With hollow poverty and emptiness. 



Archbishop, That he should draw his seveial strengths to- 

And come against us in full puissance, 

Need not be dreaded 

Hastings, If he should do so, 

He leaves his back unaim’d, the French and Welsh 
Baying ^im at the heels, never fear that so 

-'Lord Bardolph ‘Who is it like should lead his foices 
hither ? 

Hastings. The Duke of Lancaster and Westmoreland, 
■Against theAVelsh, himself and Harry Monmouth : 

But who is substituted ’gainst the French, 

I have no certain notice. 

Archbishop Let us on, 

And publish the occasion of our arms 

The commonwealth is sick of their own choice , 

Their over-gieedy love hath suifeited 
An habitation giddy and unsure 

Hath he that buiideth on the vulgar heart — oo 

O thou fond many, with what loud applause 
Didst thou beat heaven with blessing Bolingbroke, 

Before he was what thou wouldst have him be ! 

And being now trimm’d in thine own desires, 

Thou, beastly feeder, art so full of him, 

That thou provok'st thyself to cast him up 
So, so, thou common dog, didst thou disgorge 
Thy glutton bosom of the royal Richard, 

And now thou wouldst eat thy dead vomit up, 

And howl’st to find it. What trust is in these times? loo 
They that, when Richard liv’d, would have him die, 

Are now become enamour’d on his grave ; 

Thou, that threw’st dust upon his goodly head 
When through proud London he came sighing on 
After th’ admired heels of Bolingbroke, 

'Criest now ‘O eaith, yield us that king again, 



And take thou this O thoughts of men accurs’d ’ 

Past and to come seems best, things present worst 

Mowbray Shall we go diaw our numbeis and set on ^ 109 
Hastings We are time’s subjects, and time bids be gone 

\Excu 7 it 


Now the Lord lighten thee » tliou art a great fool (ii i 177) 


Scene I. LondQ7i A Street 

Enter Hostess, Fang and kts Boy jmth her^ and Snare fol- 

Hostess. Master Fang, have you entered the action ? 



Fang, It IS entered. 

Hostess, Where ’s your yeoman^ Is ’t a lusty yeoman? 
will a' stand to ’t ? 

Fang, Sirrah, where ’s Snare ^ 

Hostess, O Loid, ay ! good Master Snare. 

Snare Here, here, 

’Fang, Snaie, we must arrest Sir John Falstaff 
Hostess, Yea, good Master Snare ; I have entered him 
and all lo 

Snare It may chance cost some of us our lives, for he 
will stab. 

Hostess Alas the dayi take heed of him; he stabbed me 
in mine own house, and that most beastly In good faith, he 
cares not what mischief he does, if his weapon be out, he 
will fom like any devil ; he will spare neither man, woman, 
nor child. 

Fang If I can close with him, I care not for his thrust 
Hostess, No, nor I neither ; 1 11 be at your elbow. 

Fang, An I but fist him once; an come but within my 
vice, — ai 

Hostess, I am undone by his going ; I warrant you, he 's an 
infinitive thing upon my score. Good Master Fang, hold him 
sure ; good Master Snare, let him not scape. A’ comes con- 
tinuantly to Pie-corner — saving your manhoods — to buy a 
saddle; and he is indited to dinner to the LubbePs-head in 
Lumbert Street, to Master Smooth’s the silkman. I pray ye, 
since my exion is entered and my case so openly known to 
the world, let him be brought in to his answer. A hundred 
mark is a long one for a poor lone woman to bear; and I 
have borne, and borne, and borne, and have been fubbed ofl^ 
and fubbed off, and fubbed off, from this day to that day, that 
It is a shame to be thought on There is naJionesty in such 
dealing ; unless a woman should be made an ass and a beast, 
to bear every knave’s wrong. Yonder he comes; and that 
arrant malmsey-nose knave, Bardolph, with him. Do your 


offices, do youi offices. Master Fang and Master Snaie, do 
me, do me, do me your offices. 

Entef Falstaff, Page, mid Bardolph. 

' Fahtaff How now » whose mare 's dead ? what the 
matter? 40 

Fang, Sir John, I arrest you at the suit of Mistress 

Falstaff Away, vai lets • Draw, Bardolph ? cut me off the 
villain’s head , throw the quean m the channel. 

Hostess, Throw me in the channel! I ’ll throw thee in the 
channel Wilt thou? wilt thou? thou bastardly rogue I Mur- 
ther, murther * Ah, thou honey«suckle villain t wilt thou kill 
God’s officers and the king’s? Ah, thou honey-seed rogue! 
thou art a honey-seed, a man-queller, and a woman-queiler. 

Falstaff, Keep them off, Bardolph so 

Fang, A rescue ^ a I'escue' 

Hostess, Good people, bring a rescue or two. Thou woo’t, 
woo’t thou ^ thou woo’t, woo’t thou > do, do, thou rogue ! do, 
thou hemp-seed ! 

Falstaff, Away, you scullion ! you rampalhan ! you fustila- 
rian ^ I ’ll tickle your catastrophe. 

Enter the Lord Chief-Justice, and his men 

Chtff-yusUce What is the matter > keep the peace here, ho 1 

Hostess Good, my lord, be good to me. I beseech you, 
stand to me 

Chief -yustm How now, Sii John ! what are you brawling 
here? 60 

Doth this become your place, your time, and business ? 

You should have been well on your way to York. — 

Stand from him, fellow; wherefoie hang’st upon him? 

Hostess O my most w^orshipful lord, an ’t please your grace, 
I am a poor widow of Eastcheap,,and he is arrested at my 



Chief - Justice For w h a t su m ? 

Hostess, It IS more than for some, my lord , it is for all, all 
I have. He hath eaten me out of house and home, he hath 
put all my substance into that fat belly of his ; but I will have 
some of It out again, or I will ride thee o^ nights like the mare. 

Chief -Justice How comes this, Sii John? Fie^ what man 
of good temper would endure this tempest of exclamation? 
Are you not ashamed to enforce a poor widow to so rough a 
course to come by her own ? 75 

Falstaff, What is the gross sum that I owe thee? 

Hostess. Marry, if thou wert an honest man, thyself and 
the money too. Thou didst swear to me upon a parcel-gilt 
goblet, sitting in my Dolphin-chamber, at the round table, by 
a sea-coal fire, on Wednesday in Wheeson week, when the 
prince broke thy head foi liking his father to a singing-man of 
Windsor, thou didst swear to me then, as I was w^ashing thy 
wound, to marry me and make me my lady thy wife. Canst 
thou deny it ? Did not goodwife Keech, the butcher’s wife, 
come in then and call me gossip Quickly? coming in to bor- 
row a mess of vinegar, telling us she had a good dish of 
prawns, whereby thou didst desire to eat some, whereby I 
told thee they were ill for a green wound? And didst thou 
not, when she was gone down stairs, desire me to be no more 
so familianty with such poor people; saying that ere long 
they should call me madam? And didst thou not kiss me 
and bid me fetch thee thirty shillings? I put thee now to 
thy book-oath , deny it, if thou canst 93 

Falstaff. My lord, this is a poor mad soul ; and she says 
up and down the town that her eldest son is like you she 
hath been in good case, and the truth is, poverty hath dis- 
tracted her. But for these foolish officers, I beseech you I 
may have redress against them. 

Chiejji^stice Sir John, Sir John, I am well acquainted 
with your manner of wrenching the true cause the false way. 
It is not a confident brow, nor the throng of words that come 



with such more than impudent sauciness from }ou, can thiust 
me from a level consideration ; you have, as it appeals to me, 
piactised upon the easy-yielding spirit of this woman, and 
made hei serve your uses both in purse and in person 105 

Hostess, Yea, in tiulh, my loid 

Chief -yustice Pray thee, peace — Pay her the debt you owe 
her, and unpay the villainy 5011 have done hei , the one you 
may do with sterling money, and the other with cunent re- 

Falstaff, My lord, I will not undergo this sneap without 
reply. You call honourable boldness impudent sauciness, 
if a man will make courtesy and say nothing, he is viituous. 
No, my lord, my humble duty remembered, I will not be your 
suitor. I say to you, I do desire deliverance from these offi- 
ceis, being upon hasty employment in the king’s affairs. 116 

Chief -yustice You speak as having power to do wrong, 
but answ'er m the effect of your reputation^ and satisfy the 
poor woman, 

Falstaff, Come hither, hostess 

Enter Gower 

Chief- yustice. Now, Master Gower, what news? 

Gower, The king, my lord, and Harry Prince of Wales 
Are near at hand , the rest the paper tells. 

Falstaff. As I am a gentleman 

Hostess, Faith, you said so befoie. 125 

Falstaff As I am a gentleman Come, no more words 
of It. 

Hostess By this heavenly ground I tiead on, I must be 
fain to pawn both my plate and the tapestry of my dinmg- 

Falstaff. Glasses, glasses, is the only dunking, and for thy 
walls, a pretty slight drollery, or the story of the Prodigal, or 
the Geiman hunting in water-work, is worth a thousand of 
these bed-hangings and these fly-bitten tapestries Let it 



be ten pound, if thou canst Come, an 't were not for thy 
humours, there ’s not a better wench in England Go, wash 
thy face, and draw the action Come, thou must not be in 
this humour with me, dost not know me? come, come, I 
know^ thou wast set on to this 139 

Hostess, Pray thee. Sir John, let it be but twenty nobles, 
1’ faith, I am loath to pawn my plate, so God save me, la> 

Falstaff Let it alone : I ’ll make other shift . you ’ll be a 
fool still. 

Hostess, Well, you shall have it, though I pawn my gown. 
I hope you ’ll come to supper You ’ll pay me all together? 

Falstaff, Will I live? — \To Bardolph‘\ Go, with her, with 
her; hook on, hook on 

Hostess Will you have Doll Tearsheet meet you at supper? 

Falstaff No more words, let ’s have her. 

\Exeunt Hostess^ Bardolph^ Officers^ and Boy 

Chief -Justice, I have heard better news. 150 

Falstaff What ’s the news, my lord? 

Chief- Justice Where lay the king last night? 

Gower, At Basin^toke, my lord. 

Falstaff, I hope, my lord, all ’s well, what is the news, my 

Chief- Justice Come all his forces back? 

Gower, No; fifteen hundred foot, five hundred horse, 

Aie march’d up to ray lord of Lancaster, 

Against Northumbeiland and the Archbishop 159 

Falstaff, Comes the king back from Wales, my noble lord ? 

Chief- Justice, You shall have letters of me presently; 
Come, go along with me, good Master Gower. 

Falstaff, My lord ! 

Chief- Justice What ’s the matter? 

Falstaff, Master Gower, shall I entreat you with me to 

Gower, I must wait upon itfy good lord here, I thank 
you, good Sir John. 



Chief- Justice. Sir John, }ou loiter here too long, being \oii 
are tb take soldiers up in counties as }ou go. 170 

Falstaff Will you sup with me, Master Q6\\ei? 

Chief- Justice. What foolish mastei taught you these man- 
ners, Sir John ? 

Falstaff Mastei Gower, if they become me not, he was a 
fool that taught them me. — This is the right fencing grace, 
my lord , tap foi tap, and so part fair 

Chief- Justice Now the Lord lighten thee^ thou art a great 
fool [Exeunt, 

Scene IL London Another Street 
Enter Prince Henry and Poins. 

Frmce Before God, I am exceeding weary. 

Poms Is ’t come to that^ I had thought weariness durst 
not have attached one of so high blood 
Prince Faith, it does me, though it discolours the com- 
plexion of my greatness to acknowledge it Doth it not show 
vilely in me to desire small beer? 

Poms. Why, a prince should not be so loosely studied as 
to remember so weak a composition. s 

Prince Belike then my appetite was not princely got , for, 
by my troth, I do now remember the poor creature, small 
beer. But, indeed, these humble considerations make me out 
of love with my greatness. What a disgrace is it to me to 
remember thy name’ or to know thy face tomorrow’ or to 
take note how many pair of silk stockings thou hast, viz. 
these, and those that were thy peach-coloured ones! or to 
bear the iny^tory of thy shirts, as, one for superfluity, and 
another for usel But that the tennis-court keeper knows 
better than I ; for it is a low ebb of linen with thee when 
thou keepest not racket there; as thou hast not done a 
great while, because the rest of thy low countries have made 
a shift to eat up thy holland: and God knows, whether 



those that bawl out the ruins of thy linen shall inherit his 
kingdom. 23 

Fotns How ill it follows, after you have laboured so hard, 
you should talk so idly » Tell me, how many good young 
princes would do so, their fathers being so sick as yours at 
this time is^ 

Prince, Shall I tell thee one thing, Poins? 

Poms, Yes, faith ; and let it be an excellent good thing 
Prince, It shall serve among wits of no higher breeding 
than thine. 

Poms Go to; I stand the push of your one thing that you 
will tell. 33 

Prince Mairy, I tell thee, it is not meet that I should be 
sad, now my father is sick, albeit I could tell to thee, as to 
one It pleases me, for fault of a better, to call my friend, 1 
could be sad, and sad indeed too. 

Poms, Very hardly upon such a subject. 

Prince By this hand, thou thinkest me as far in the devil’s 
book as thou and Falstaif for obduracy and persistency, let 
the end try the man. But I tell thee, my heart bleeds in- 
wardly that my father is so sick, and keeping such vile com- 
pany as thou art hath in reason taken from me all ostentation 
of sorrow 44 

Poms The reason ? 

Prince What wouldst thou think of me, if I should weep^ 
Poms, I would think thee a most princely hypocrite.. 
Prince, It would be every man’s thought ; and thou art a 
blessed fellow to think as every man thinks never a man’s 
thought in the world keeps the road-way better than thine , 
every man would think me an hypocrite indeed. And what 
accites your most worshipful thought to think so? 

Poms, Why, because >ou have been so lewd and so much 
engraffed to Falstaff. 54 

Prince, And to thee 

Poms, By this light, I am well spoke on , I can hear it with 



mine own ears the worst that they can say of me is that I 
am a second brother and that I am a proper fellow of my 
hands j and those two things, I confess, I cannot help By 
the mass, here comes Baidolph. 6o 

Enter Bardolph and Page 

Pnnce And the boy that I gave Fal staff he had him from 
me Chiistian , and look, if the fat villain have not transfoimed 
him ape. 

Bai'dolph God save your grace f 
Fftnce And yours, most noble Bardolph^ 

Bardolph Come, you vntuous ass, you bashful fool, must 
you be blushing? wherefore blush you now? What a maid- 
enly man-at-aims are you become! 

Page. A’ calls me e’en now, my lord, through a red lattice, 
and I could discern no part of his face from the window, at 
last I spied his eyes, and raethought he had made two holes 
in the ale-wife’s new petticoat and peeped through. 

Prt7tce Has not the boy profited^ 

Bardolph Away, you whoreson upright rabbit, away * 
Page. Away, you rascally Althsea’s dream, away! 

Prince Instruct us, boy, what dream, boy? 

Page Marry, my lord, Althsea dreamed she was delivered 
of a fire-brand ; and therefore I call him her dream. 

Prince A crown’s worth of good interpietation. — There 
’t is, boy So 

Poms. O, that this good blossom could be kept from can- 
kers Well, there is sixpence to preserve thee. 

Bardolph. An you do not make him hanged among you, 
the gallow's shall have wrong. 

Pnnce. And how doth thy master, Bardolph? 

Bardolph Well, my lord. He heaid of your grace’s com- 
ing to town , there ’s a letter for you. 

Poins. Delivered with good respect. — And how doth the 
martlemas, your master? 



Bardolpk, In bodily health, sir. 9® 

Poms Marry, the immortal part needs a physician , but 
that moves not him ; though that be sick, it dies not. 

Prime. I do allow this wen to be as familiar with me as 
my dog : and he holds his place , for look you how he writes. 

Poms. [Reads] ^ yohn Falstaff^ knight ^ — every man must 
know that, as oft as he has occasion to name himself, even 
like those that are kin to the king; for they never prick their 
finger but they say, ‘There ’s some of the king’s blood spilt.’ 
‘How comes that^’ says he, that takes upon him not to con- 
ceive. The answer is as ready as a borrower’s cap, ‘ I am 
the king’s poor cousin, sir ’ loi 

Prince Nay, they will be kin to us, or they will fetch it 
from Japhet. But to the letter* 

Poms. [Reads] ‘ Sir yohn Falstaff^ kmght^ to the son of the 
king, nearest his father, Harry Prince of Wales, greeting .^ — 
Why, this is ^ certificate# 

Prince. Peace! 

Poms. [Reads] mil imitate the honourahU Romans m 
brevity f he sure means brevity in breath, short-winded. 
commend me to thee, I commend thee, and 1 leave thee Be not 
too familiar with Poms; far he misuses thy favours so much, 
that he swears thou art to marry his sister Nell Repent at 
idle times as thou mayest, and so, farewell. 113 

‘ Thine, by yea and no, whuh is as much as to 
say, as thou'fisest him. Jack Falstaff with my 
familiars, John with my brothers and sisters, 
and Sir John with all Europel 
My lord, I ’ll steep this letter in sack and make him eat it. 

Prince. That’s to make him eat twenty of his words. But 
do you use me thus, Ned? must I marry your sister? 120 
Poins. God send the wench no worse fortune! But I never 
said so. 

Prince. Well, thus we play the fools with the time, and the 
spirits of the wise sit in the clouds and mock us. — Is your 
master here in London? 



Bardolph Yea, my lord 

Prt 7 ice Where sups he? doth the old boar feed in the old 

Bardolph At the old place, my lord, in Eastcheap 
Prince What company? 130 

Page. Ephesians, my loid, of the old chuich. 

Prince Sup any women with him ? 

Page None, my loid, but old Mistress Quickly and Mis- 
tress Doll Tearsheet 

Pnnce What pagan may that be? 

Page. A pioper gentlewoman, sir, and a kinswoman of my 

Prince Shall we steal upon them, Ned, at supper? 

Poms. 1 am your shadow, my lord , I ’ll follow you 139 
Prince Sin ah, you boy, and Bardolph, no word to your 
master that I am yet come to town. There ’s for your si- 

Bardolph I have no tongue, sir 
Page. And for mine, sir, I will govern it 
Prince Fare you well , go — \Exeimt Bai^dolph and Page ] 
How might we see FalstafF bestow himself to-night in his true 
colours, and not ourselves be seen ? 

Poms Put on two leathern jerkins and aprons, and wait 
upon him at his table as drawers. 149 

Prince. From a God to a bull? a heavy declension > it was 
Jove’s case. From a prince to a prentice? a low transforma- 
tion 1 that shall be mine , for in every thing the purpose must 
weigh with the folly. Follow me, Ned. [Exeunt 

Scene III, Warkworth Before the Castle. 

Enter Northumberland, Lady NoRrHUMBERLAND, and 
Lady Percy. 

Northumberland I prithee, loving wife, and gentle daugh- 



Give even way unto my rough affairs; 

Put not you on the visage of the times, 

And be like them to Percy troublesome. 

Lady Norihumberland I have given over, I will speak no 

Do what you will ; your wisdom be your guide. 

Northumberland Alas, sweet wife, my honour is at pawn; 
And, but my going, nothing can redeem it. 

LLady Percy. O yet, for God’s sake, go not to these 
wars ! 

The time was, father, that you broke your woid, lo 

When you were more endear’d to it than now. 

When your own Percy, when my heart’s dear Harry, 

Threw many a northward look to see his father 
Bring up his poweis, but he did long in vain. 

Who then persuaded you to stay at home? 

There were two honours lost, yours and your son’s. 

For yours, the God of heaven brighten it! 

For his, it stuck upon him as the sun 

In the grey vault of heaven, and by his light 

Did all the chivalry of England move » 

To do brave acts ; he was indeed the glass 

Wherein the noble youth did dress themselves. 

He had no legs that practis’d not his gait; 

And speaking thick, which nature made his blemish, 

Became the accents of the valiant; 

For those that could speak low and tardily 
Would turn their own perfection to abuse. 

To seem like him • so that in speech, in gait. 

In diet, in affections of delight, 

In military rules, humours of blood, 3 ^ 

He was the mark and glass, copy and book. 

That fashion’d others. And him, 0 wondrous him ! 

O miracle of men I him did you leave. 

Second to none, unseconded by you, 




To look upon the hideous god of war 
In disadvantage , to abide a field 
Where nothing but the sound of Hotspur’s name 
Did seem defensible . so you left him. 

Never, O never, do his ghost the wrong 

To hold your honour more precise and nice 40 

With others than with him » let them alone. 

The marshal and the archbishop are strong; 

Had my sheet Harry had but half their numbers, 

To-day might I, hanging on Hotspur’s neck, 

Have talk’d of Monmouth’s grave. 

Northumberland, Beshrew your heart, 

Fair daughter, you do draw my spirits from me 
With new lamenting ancient oversights. 

But I must go and meet with danger there, 

Or it will seek me in another place 
And find me worse piovided 

Lady Northumberland, O, fly to Scotland, so 

Till that the nobles and the armed commons 
Have of their puissance made a little taste 
Lady Percy, If they get ground and vantage of the king, 
Then join you with them, like a rib of steel. 

To make strength stronger; but, for all our loves, 

First let them try themselves So did your son ; 

He was so suffer’d: so came I a widow; 

And never shall have length of life enough 
To rain upon remembrance wnth mine eygs. 

That it may grow and sprout as high as heaven, 60 

For recordation to my noble husband. 

Northumberland Come, come, go in with me ’T is with 
my mind 

As with the tide s well’d up unto his height, 

That makes a still-stand, running neither way. 

Fain would I go to meet the aichbishop, 

But many thousand reasons hold me back — 



I Will resolve for Scotland , there am I, 67 

Till time and vantage crave my company, [Exeunt. 

Scene IV. London The Boar^s-head Tavern in Eastcheap. 

Enter two Drawers. 

1 Drawer, What the devil hast thou brought there? apple- 
johns? thou knowest Sir John cannot endure an apple-john. 

2 Drawer, Mass, thou sayest true. The prince once set a 
dish of apple-johns before him, and told him there were five 
more Sir Johns, and, putting oiF his hat, said T will now take 
my leave of these six dry, round, old, withered knights * It 
angered him to the heait; but he hath forgot that, 

1 Drawer, Why, then, cover, and set them down • and see 

if thou canst find out Sneak’s noise, Mistress Tearsheet 
would fain hear some music to 

2 Drawer, Sirrah, here will be the prince and Master Poins 
anon ; and they will put on two of our jerkins and aprons, 
and Sir John must not know of it : Bardolph hath brought 

1 Drawer, By the mass, here will be old utis; it will be 
an excellent stratagem. 

2 Drawer, I ’ll see if I can find out Sneak. [Exzt. 

Enter Hostess and Doll Tearsheet. 

Hostess, I’ faith, sweetheart, methinks now you are in an 
excellent good temperahty ; your pulsidge beats as extraor- 
dinarily as heart would desiie, and your colour, I warrant you, 
is as red as any rose, in good truth, la 1 But, 1’ faith, you have 
drunk too much canaries; and that ’s a marvellous searching 
wine, and it perfumes the blood ere one can say ‘What ’s 
this?’ — How do you now? 24 

DoiL Better than I was; hem! 

Hostess, Why, that ’s well said ; a good heart ’s worth gold. 
Lo^ here comes Sir John. 



Enter Falstaff. 

Falstaff [Singing] ‘ When Arthur first tn court — And was 
a worthy king"' — \Exit i Drawer^ — How now, Mistress 
Doll » 30 

Hostess. Sick of a calm, yea, good faith. 

Falstaff So is all her sect, an they be once in a calm, 
they are sick. 

Doll. You muddy rascal, is that all the comfort you give 

Falstaff You make fat rascals, Mistress Doll. 

Doll I make them ’ gluttony and diseases make them , I 
make them not. 38 

Hostess By my troth, this is the old fashion ; you two 
never meet but you fall to some discord, you aie both, 1’ 
good truth, as rheumatic as two dry toasts, you cannot one 
bear with another’s confirmities What the good-year 1 one 
must bear, and that must be you; you are the weaker vessel, 
as they say, the emptier vessel. 

Doll. Come, I ’ll be friends with thee, Jack, thou art go- 
ing to the wars, and whether I shall ever see thee again or 
no, there is nobody cares. 

Re-enter i Drawer. 

I Drawer. Sir, Ancient Pistol ’s below, and would speak 
with you. 49 

Doll. Hang him, swaggering rascal ! let him not come 
hither; it is the foul-mouthed’st rogue in England. 

Hostess. If he swagger, let him not come here : no, by my 
faith; I must live among my neighbours, I ’ll no swaggerers. 
I am in good name and fame with the very best. — Shut the 
door; — there comes no swaggerers here I have not lived 
all this while, to have swaggering now. — Shut the door, I 
pray you. 

Falstaff. Dost thou hear, hostess ? 



Hostess. Pray ye, pacify yourself, Sir John; there comes 
no swaggerers here. 60 

Falstaff. Dost thou hear ? it is mine ancient. 

Hostess. Tilly-fally, Sir John, ne’er tell me, your ancient 
swaggerer comes not in my doors. I was before Mastei 
Tisick, the debuty, t’ other day; and, as he said to me — ’t was 
no longer ago than Wednesday last — ‘ I’ good faith, neigh- 
bour Quickly,’ says he — Master Dumbe, our minister, was by 
then — ‘ neighbour Quickly,’ says he, ‘ receive those that are 
civil , for,’ said he, ‘ you are in an ill name.’ Now a’ said 
so, I can tell whereupon; ‘for,’ says he, ‘you are an honest 
woman, and well thought on, theiefore take heed what 
guests you receive . receive,’ says he, ‘ no swaggering com- 
panions ’ There comes none here , — you would bless you 
to hear what he said. — No, I ’ll no swaggerers. 73 

Falstaff. He ’s no swaggerer, hostess ; a tame cheater, 1’ 
faith ; you may stroke him as gently as a puppy greyhound • 
he ’ll not swagger with a Barbary hen, if her feathers turn 
back in any show of resistance. — Call him up, drawer. 

\Extt I Drawer. 

Hostess. Cheater, call you him ? I will bar no honest man 
my house, nor no cheater : but I do not love swaggering, by 
my troth; I am the worse, when one says swagger — Feel, 
masters, how I shake ; look you, I warrant you. 81 

Doll. So you do, hostess 

Hostess. Do I ? yea, in vary truth, do I, an ’t were an aspen 
leaf. I cannot abide swaggerers. 

Enter Pistol, Bakdolph, and Page, 

Pistol. God save you, Sir John I 

Falstaff. Welcome, Ancient Pistol. Here, Pistol, I charge 
you with a cup of sack ; do you discharge upon mine hostess 
Pistol. I will discharge upon her, Sir John. 

Falstaff. She is pistol-proof, sir; you shall hardly offend 




Hostess, Come, I’ll drink no proofs, I ’ll drink no more 
than will do me good, for no man’s pleasuie, 1. 

HzstoL Then to you, Mistress Doiothy , I will charge you. 

Doll, Charge me ^ I scorn you, scuivy companion. What! 
you poor, base, rascally, cheating, lack-linen mate » Away, 
you mouldy rogue, away 1 I am meat for your master. 

Pistol, I know you, Mistress Doiothy. 97 

Doll, Away, you cut-purse rascal ! you filthy bung, away 1 
by this wine, I ’ll thrust my knife in 3 our mouldy chaps, an 
you play the saucy cuttle with me. Away, you bottle-ale ras- 
cal * you basket-hilt stale juggler, you ^ Since when, I pray 
you, sir? God’s light, with two points on your shoulder? 
much I 

Pistol, God let me not live, but I will murther your ruff 
for this, 

Falstaff No moie. Pistol, I would not have you go off 
here • discharge yourself of our company, Pistol. 107 

Hostess No, good Captain Pistol , not here, sweet captain. 

Doll, Captain 1 thou abominable damned cheater, art thou 
not ashamed to be called captain ? An captains were of my 
mind, they would truncheon you out, for taking their names 
upon you before you have earned them. You a captain ! 
you slave, for what ? He a captain ! hang him, rogue ’ he 
lives upon mouldy stewed prunes and dried cakes. A cap- 
tain * God’s light, these villains will make the word captain 
odious j therefore captains had need look to ’t. 

Bardolph, Pray thee, go down, good ancient. 

Falstaff, Haik thee hither. Mistress Doll. 

Pistol, Not I . I tell thee what, Corporal Bardolph, I could 
tear her; I ’ll be revenged of her. 120 

Page, Pray thee, go down. 

Pistol, I ’ll see her damned first; to Pluto’s damned lake, 
by this hand, to the infernal deep, with Eiebus and tortures 
vile also. Hold hook and line, say I. Down, down, dogs ! 
down, faitors ^ Have we not Hiren here ? 


7 ^ 

Hostess, Good Captain Peesel, be quiet, ’t is very late, i’ 
faith I beseek you now, aggravate your choler. 

FtsfoL These be good humours, indeed ! Shall pack- 

And hollow pamper’d jades of Asia, 

Which cannot go but thirty mile a~day, 130 

Compare with Caesars, and with Cannibals, 

And Trojan Greeks? nay, rather damn them with 
King Cerberus; and let the welkin roar. , 

Shall we fall foul for toys ? 

Hostess, By my troth, captain, these are very bitter words. 
Bardolph Be gone, good ancient, this will grow to a brawl 

Ftstol Die men like dogs ! give crowns like pins 1 Have 
we not Hiren heie ? X39 

Hostess, O’ my word, captain, there ’s none such here. 
What the good-year 1 do you think I would deny her ? For 
God’s sake, be quiet. 

Ftstol, Then feed, and be fat, my fair Calipolis. 

Come, give ’s some sack. 

Si fort une meJ^rmente^ sperato me contento. ^ 

Fear we broadsides > no, let the fiend give fire. 

Give me some sack, and, sweetheart, he thou there. 

\Laying down his sword. 

Come we to full points here, and are etceteras nothing ? 
Falstaff, Pistol, I would be quiet. 149 

Ftstol Sweet knight, I kiss thy r^if. What ! we have seen 
the seven stars. 

Doll For God’s sake, thrust him down stairs ; I cannot 
endure such a fustian rascal. 

Pistol, Thrust him down stairs! know we not Galloway 

Falstaff, Quoit him down, Bardolph, like a shove -groat 
shilling, nay, an a’ do nothing but speak nothing, a’ shall be 
nothing here. 


Batdolph Come, get you down stairs. ,59 

JPistol, What ! shall we have incision ^ shall we imbrue.^ 

\Stiatchtng up his sword. 

Then death rock me asleep, abridge my doleful days 1 
Why, then, let grievous, ghastly, gaping wounds 
Untwine the Sisters Three ! Come, Atropos, I say 1 
Hostess. Here ’s goodly stuff toward ! 

Falstaff. Give me my rapier, boy. 

HJl I pray thee. Jack, I pray thee, do not draw. 

Falstaff. Get you down stairs. 

{Drawing, and drwing Pistol out 
Hostess. Here ’s a goodly tumult 1 I ’ll forswear keeping 
house, afore I ’ll be in these tiirits and frights. So, mur- 
ther, I warrant now. — Alas, alas 1 put up your naked weapons, 
put up your naked weapons {Exeunt Puiol and Bardolph. 

Doll. I pray thee, Jack, be quiet; the rascal ’s gone. Ah 
you whoreson little valiant villain, you ! 

Hostess. Are you not hurt 1’ the groin ? raethought a’ made 
a shrewd thrust at your belly. 

Re-enter Bardolph 

Falstaff. Have you turned him out o’ doors? 

_ Bardolph. Yea, sir. The rascal ’s drunk. You have hurt 
him, sir, i' the shoulder, 

JP'cUstaff, A rascal ! to brave me ! j 

Doll Ah, you sweet little rogue, you ! Alas, poor ape! 
how thou sweatest 1 come, let me wipe thy face ; — come on 
you whoreson chops — Ah, rogue! i’ faith, I love thee, thou 
art as valorous as Hector of Troy, worth five of Agamem- 
non, and ten times better than the Nine Worthies. Ah vil- 
lain 1 ’ 

blaStt^ ^ ^ 

Enter Music. 

Page. The music is come, sir. 



Falstaff, Let them play. — Play, sirs.-— A rascal bragging 
slave ! the logue fled from me like quicksilver. jgo 

DolL I’ faith, and thou followedst him like a church 
Thou whoreson little tidy Baitholomew boar-pig, when wilt 
thou leave fighting and foining, and begin to patch up thine 
old body for heaven ? 

Enter^ behind^ Prince Henry and Poins, disguised 
Falstaff. Peace, good Doll ! do not speak like a death V 
head; do not bid me remember mine end 
DolL Sirrah, wdiat humour the prince of? 

Falstaff, A good shallow young fellow, a’ would have 
made a good pan tier, a’ would ha’ chipped biead well. 

DolL They say Poms has a good wit. 200 

Falstaff He a good wit ^ hang him, baboon ! his wit ’s as 
thick as Tewksbuiy mustard; there ’s no more conceit in 
him than is in a mallet. 

DolL Why does the piince love him so, then ? 

Falstaff. Because their legs are both of a bigness, and a’ 
plays at quoits well, and eats conger and fennel, and drinks 
off candles’ ends for flap-dragons, and rides the wild-mare 
with the boys, and jumps upon joined-stools, and swears with 
a good giace, and wears his boots very smooth, like unto the 
sign of the leg, and breeds no bate with telling of discieet 
stones; and such other gambol faculties a’ has, that show a 
weak mind and an able body, for the which the prince ad- 
mits him : for the prince himself is such another; the weight 
of a hair will turn the scales between their avoirdupois. 214 
Fnnce. Would not this nave of a wheel have his ears cut off^ 
Fotns Let ’s beat him. 

Frince Look, whether the withered elder hath not his poll 
clawed like a parrot. 

Falstaff. Kiss me, Doll. 

Frince. Saturn and Venus this year in conjunction < what 
says the almanac to that? 22X 



Fmns. And, look, whether the fiery Trigon, his man, be 
not lisping to his master’s old tables, his note-book, his coun- 

Faktaff. Thou dost give me flattering busses. 

DolL By my troth, I kiss thee with a most constant heart. 

Fahtaff I am old, I am old. 

DolL I love thee better than I love e’er a scurvy young 
boy of them all. 329 

Falstaff. What stuff wilt have a kiitle of ^ I shall receive 
money o’ Thursday ; thou shalt have a cap to-morrow. A 
merry song, come^ it grows late. Thou ’It forget me when 
I am gone. 

DolL By my troth, thou ’It set me a-weeping, an thou say- 
est so . prove that ever I dress myself handsome till thy 
return. — Well, hearken the end 

Falstaff. Some sack, Francis. 

Fotns i anon, sir. [Coming forward. 

Falstaff. Ha ' a bastard son of the king’s^ — And ait not 
thou Poms his brother ? 240 

Prince. Why, thou globe of sinful continents, what a life 
dost thou lead ^ 

Fahtaff, A better than thou ] I am a gentleman, thou art 
a drawer. 

Prince. Very true, sir ; and I come to draw you out by the 

Hostess. O, the Lord preserve thy good grace 1 by my 
troth, welcome to London. — Now, the Lord bless that sweet 
face of thine ! O Jesu, are you come from Wales ^ 

Falstaff Thou whoreson mad compound of majesty, by 
this light flesh and corrupt blood, thou art w^elcome. 251 

DolL How, you fat fool ^ I scorn you. 

Poms. My lord, he will drive you out of your revenge and 
turn all to a merriment, if you take not the heat. 

Prince. You whoreson candle -mine, you, how vilely did 



you speak of me even now before this honest, virtuous, civil 
gentlewoman I 

Hostess. God's blessing of } our good heart 1 and so she is, 
by my troth. 

Falstaff. Didst thou hear me ? 260 

Frmce. Yea, and you knew me, as you did when you ran 
away by Gadshill , you knew I was at your back, and spoke 
It on purpose to try my patience. 

Falstaff. No, no, no, not 50 , I did' not think thou wast 
within hearing. 

Prince. I shall drive you then to confess the wilful abuse , 
and then I know how to handle }ou. 

Falstaff No abuse, Hal, o’ mine honour , no abuse. 

Prince Not to dispraise me, and call me pantler and 
bread-chipper and I know not what? 270 

Falstaff No abuse, Hal. 

Poms. No abuse ^ 

Falstaff. No abuse, Ned, 1’ the world ; honest Ned, none. 
I dispraised him before the wicked, that the wicked might 
not fall m love with him ; in which doing, I have done the 
part of a careful friend and a true subject, and thy father 
IS to give me thanks for it. No abuse, Hal, — none, Ned, 
none — no, faith, boys, none. 

Prince. See now, whether pure fear and entire cowardice 
doth not make thee wrong this virtuous gentlewoman to 
close with us? is she of the wicked? is thine hostess here 
of the wicked ? or is thy boy of the wicked ^ or honest Bar- 
dolph, whose zeal burns in his nose, of the wicked ? 283 

Poms. Answer, thou dead elm, answer. 

Falstaff. The fiend hath pricked down Bardolph irre- 
coverable ; and his face is Lucifer’s privy-kitchen, where he 
doth nothing but roast malt-worms. For the boy, there is a 
good angel about him , but the devil outbids him too 

Prince. For the women ^ 

Falstaff. For one of them, she is in hell alieady, and 



burns, poor soul. For the other, I owe her money ; and 
whether she be damned for that, I know not 293 

Hostess, No, I warrant you. 

Falstaff No, I think thou art not; I think thou art quit 
for that Marry, there is another indictment upon thee, for 
suffering flesh to be eaten in thy house, contrary to the law ; 
for the which I think thou wilt howl. 

Hostess, All victuallers do so ; what ’s a joint of mutton 
or two in a whole Lent ? 

Prince, You, gentlewoman, — 300 

Doll, What says your grace ? 

Falstaff, His grace says that which his flesh rebels against. 

[Knocking within. 

Hostess, Who knocks so loud at door? — Look to the door 
there, Fiancis. 

Enter Peto 

Prince Peto, how now • what news ^ 

Peto, The king your father is at Westminster, 

And there are twenty weak and weaned posts 
Come from the north; and, as I came along, 

I met and overtook a dozen captains, 

Bare-headed, sweating, knocking at the taverns, 310 

And asking every one for Sir John Falstaff. 

Prince, By heaven, Poms, I feel me much to blame, 

So idly to piofane the precious time, 

’When tempest of commotion, like the south 
Borne with black vapour, doth begin to melt 
And drop upon our bare unarmed heads. 

Give me my sword and cloak, — Falstaff, good night 

[Exeunt Prince Henry ^ Poins^ Peto^ and Bardolph, 

Falstaff, Now comes in the sweetest morsel of the night, 
and we must hence and leave it unpicked. — [Knocking with- 
in ] More knocking at the door * — 

Re-enter Bardolph. 

How now ! what ’s the matter ? 




Bardolph. You must away to court, sir, presently, 

A dozen captains stay at door for you. 

Falstaff. \To the Bage\ Pay the musicians, sirrah. — Fare- 
well, hostess ; — farewell, Doll. You see, my good wenches, 
how men of merit are sought after, the undeserved may 
sleep, when the man of action is called on. Farewell, good 
wenches; if I be not sent away post, I will see you again 
ere I go. • 

Doll. I cannot speak ; if my heart be not ready to burst, — 
'well, sweet Jack, have a care of thyself. 331 

Falstaff. Farewell, farewell. 

\Exeunt Falstaff and Bardolph. 

Hostess. Well, fare thee well. I have known thee these 
twenty-nine years, come peascod-time , but an honester and 
truer-hearted man, — well, fare thee well. 

Bardolph [ Wtthi7{\ Mistress Tearsheet * 

Hostess. What 's the matter? 

Bardolph. [JVtt/un] Bid Mistress Tearsheet come to my 

Hostess. 0, run, Doll, run , run, good Doll : come. [She 
comes blubbered. 1 Yea, will you come, Doll? [Exeunt 


Scene I. WesimznsieK The Palace, 

Enter the King tn hts nightgown^ with a Page. 

/Cing, Go call the Earls of Surrey and of Warwick , 

But, ere they come, bid them o’er-read these letters, 

And well consider of them Make good speed. \Exit Page, 

How many thousand of my poorest subjects 

Are at this hour asleep ^ — O sleep, O gentle sleep, 

Nature’s soft nurse, how have I frighted thee, 

That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down 
And steep my senses in forgetfulness ? 

Why rather, sleep, best thou in smoky cribs. 

Upon uneasy pallets stretching thee *© 

And hush’d with buzzing night-flies to thy slumber, 

Than m the perfum’d chambers of the great, 

Under the canopies of costly state, 

And lull’d with sound of sweetest melody ? 


O thou dull god, why liest thou with the vile 
In loathsome beds, and leav’st the kingly couch 
A watch-case or a common laruin-bell ? 

Wilt thou upon the high and giddy mast 
Seal up the ship-boy’s eyes, and rock his brains 
In cradle of the rude imperious surge 
And in the visitation of the winds, 

Who take the ruffian billows by the top, 

Curling their monstrous heads and hanging them 
With deafening clamour in the slippery clouds, 

That with the hurly death itself awakes ^ 

Canst thou, O partial sleep, give thy repose 
To the wet sea-boy in an hour so rude, 

And in the calmest and most stillest night, 

With all appliances and means to boot. 

Deny it to a king? Then happy low, lie down » 
Uneasy lies the head that w^ears a crown 

Enter Warwick and Surrey. 

Warwick Many good morrows to your majesty ^ 
King Is It good moirow, lords ? 

Warwick, ’T is one o’clock, and past 
King. Why, then, good morrow to you all, my lords. 
Have you read o’er the letters that I sent you ? 
Warwick. We have, my liege. 

King. Then you perceive the body of our kingdom 
How foul it is ; what rank diseases grow, 

And with what danger, near the heart of it. 

Warwick. It is but as a body yet distemper’d, 
Which to his former strength may be restor’d 
With good advice and little medicine. 

My Lord Northumberland will soon be cool’d. 

King O God ’ that one might read the book of fate, 
And see the revolution of the times 
Make mountains level, and the continent, 



Weary of solid firmness, melt itself 
Into the sea 1 and, other times, to see 

The beachy girdle of the ocean so 

Too wide for Neptune’s hips, how chances mock, 

And changes fill the cup of alteration 
With divers liquors f O, if this were seen, 

The happiest }outh, viewing his progress through, 

What perils past, what crosses to ensue, 

Would shut the book, and sit him down and die. 

’T is not ten years gone 

Since Richard and Noithumberland, great friends. 

Did feast togethei, and m two years after 

Were they at wars , it is but eight years since 6o 

This Percy was the man nearest my soul, 

Who like a brother toil’d in my affairs 
And laid his love and life under my foot, 

Yea, for my sake, even to the eyes of Richard 
Gave him defiance. But which of you was by — 

You, cousin Nevil, as I may remember — [To Warwick ] 
When Richard, with his eye brimful of tears, 

Then check’d and rated by Northumberland, 

Did speak these words, now prov’d a prophecy ? 

‘ Northumberland, thou ladder by the which 70 

My cousin Bolingbroke ascends my throne / — 

Though then, God knows, I had no such intent, 

But that necessity so bow’d the state 
That I and greatness were compell’d to kiss 
‘ The time shall come,’ thus did he follow it, 

‘ The time will come, that foul sin, gathering head, 

Shall break into corruption / — so went on, 

Foretelling this same time’s condition 
And the division of our amity. 

Warwick. There is a history m ail men’s lives, 80 

Figuring the nature of the times deceas’d; 

The which observ’d, a man may prophesy, 



With a near aim, of the main chance of things 
As yet not come to life, which m their seeds 
And weak beginnings lie mtreasured 
Such things become the hatch and brood of time , 

And by the necessary foiin of this 

King Richard might create a perfect guess 

That great Northumberland, then false to him, 

Would of that seed grow to a greater falseness, 9< 

Which should not find a ground to root upon, 

Unless on you, 

E'tng Are these things then necessities ? 

Then let us meet them like necessities , 

And that same word even now cries out on us. 

They say the bishop and Northumberland 
Are fifty thousand strong. 

Warwick, It cannot be, my lord , 

Rumour doth double, like the voice and echo. 

The numbers of the fear’d — Please it your grace 
To go to bed. Upon my soul, my lord, 

The powers that you already have sent forth loo 

Shall bring this prize in very easily. 

To comfort you the more, I have receiv’d 
A certain instance that Glendower is dead 
Your majesty hath been this fortnight ill, 

And these unseason’d hours perforce must add 
Unto your sickness. 

King, ' I will take your counsel , 

And were these inward wars once out of hand, 

We w^ould, dear lords, unto the Holy Land. \Exeunt. 




Scene II. Gloucestershire, Befoi'e yustice Shallow's House 
Enter Shallow aiid Silence, meeting. Mouldy, Shadow, 
Wart, Feeble, Bullcalf, and Sei'vants with them. 

Shallow Come on, come on, come on, sir , give me your 
hand, sir, give me your hand, sii an early stirrer, by the 
rood * And how doth my good cousin Silence^ 

Silence, Good morrow, good cousin Shallow. 

Shallow And how doth my cousin, your bedfellow? and 
your fairest daughter and mine, my god-daughter Ellen ? 

Silence, Alas, a black ousel, cousin Shallow » 

Shallow, By yea and nay, sir, I dare say my cousin William 
is become a good scholar , he is at Oxford still, is he not ? 

Silence, Indeed, sir, to my cost. lo 

Shallow He must, then, to the inns o’ court shortly. I 
was once of Clement’s Inn, where I think they will talk of 
mad Shallow yet. 

Silence, You were called lusty Shallow then, cousin. 

Shallow, By the mass, I was called any thing; and I would 
have done any thing indeed too, and roundly too. There 
was I, and little John Doit of Staffordshire, and black George 
Barnes, and Francis Pickbone, and Will Squele, a Cotswold 
man; you had not four such swinge-bucklers in all the inns 
o’ court again. Then was Jack Falstaff, now Sir John, a boy, 
and page to Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk. 21 

Silence This Sir John, cousin, that comes hither anon 
about soldiers? 

Shallow The same Sir John, the very same. I saw him 
break Skogan’s head at the court-gate, when a’ was a crack 
not thus high ; and the very same day did I fight with one 
Sampson Stockfish, a fruiterer, behind Gray’s Inn. Jesu, 
Jesu, the mad days that I have spent! and to see how many 
of my old acquaintance are dead! 

Silence, We shall all follow, cousin. 




Shallow, Certain, is certain , veiy sure, very sure death, 
as the Psalmist saith, is certain to all; all shall die. How a 
good yoke of bullocks at Stamford fair? 

Silence, By my troth, I was not there. 

Shallow, Death is certain. Is old Double of your town 
living yet ? 

Silence, Dead, sir. 

Shallow, Jesu, Jesu, dead ^ a’ drew a good bow; and dead » 
a’ shot a fine shoot : John o’ Gaunt loved him well, and betted 
much money on his head. Dead » a’ would have clapped i’ 
the clout at twelve score ; and carried you a forehand shaft 
at fourteen and fourteen and a half, that it would have done 
a man’s heart good to see. How a score of ewes now^ 43 

Silence. Thereafter as they be ; a score of good ewes may 
be worth ten pounds. 

Shallow. And is old Double dead? 

Silence, Here come two of Sir John Falstaff’s men, as I 

E^ter Bardolph and one with him, 

Bardolph, Good morrow, honest gentlemen. I beseech 
you, which is Justice Shallow? 50 

Shallow I am Robert Shallow, sir ; a poor esquire of this 
county, and one of the king’s justices of the peace. What is 
your good pleasure with me? 

Bardolph, My captain, sir, commends him to you; my 
captain. Sir John FalstafF, a tali gentleman, by heaven, and 
a most gallant leader. 

Shallow, He greets me well, sir. I knew him a good 
backsword man. How doth the good knight? may I ask 
how my lady his wife doth ? 

Bardolph, Sir, pardon ; a soldier is better accommodated 
than with a wife. 61 

Shallow, It is well said, in faith, sir; and it is well said in- 
deed too. Better accommodated! it is good ; yea, indeed, is 
It : good phrases are surely, and ever were, very commend- 


able. Accommodated ’ it comes of accommodo . ver) good j 
a good phrase. 

Bardolph. Pardon me, sir, I have heard the word Phrase 
call you It? by this good day, I know not the phrase , but I 
will maintain the word with my sword to be a soldiei-like 
wwd, and a woid of exceeding good command, by heaven. 
Accommodated, that is, wdien a man is, as they say, accom- 
modated , or when a man is, being, whereby a’ may be thought 
to be accommodated , which is an excellent thing. 73 

Shallow It is very just — 

Enter Falstaff. 

Look, here comes good Sir John. — Give me your good hand, 
give me your woi ship’s good hand. By my troth, you look 
well and bear your years very well, welcome, good Sir John. 

Falstaff. I am glad to see you well, good Master Robert 
Shallow. — Master Surecard, as I think ? 

Shallow. No, Sir John ; it is my cousin Silence, in com- 
mission with me. 81 

Falstaff. Good Master Silence, it well befits you should be 
of the peace. 

Silence. Your good worship is welcome 
Falstaff.. Fie* this is hot weather, gentlemen. — Have you 
provided me here half a dozen sufficient men ? 

Shallow. Many, have we, sir. Will you sit? 

Falstaff. Let me see them, I beseech you. 

Shallow. Where ’s the roll? where ^s the roll.? where ’s the 
roll? Let me see, let me see, let me see. So, so, so, so, so, 
so, so; yea, many, sir. — Ralph Mouldy*— Let them appear 
as I call, let them do so, let them do so. — Let me see; wheie 
IS Mouldy? 93 

Moiddy. Here, an ’t please you. 

Shallow. What think you, Sir John? a good-limbed fellow, 
young, strong, and of good friends, 

Falstaff. Is thy name Mouldy? 



Mouldy, Yesi, an please you. 

Falstaff is the more time thou wert used. 

Shallow, Ha^ ha, ha! most excellent, i’ faith J things that 
are mouldy lack use ; very singular good ! — In faith, well said, 
Sir John, very well said. 102 

Falstaff, Prick him 

Mouldy, I was pricked well enough before, an }ou could 
.have let me' alone, my old dame will be undone now for one 
to do her husbandry and her drudgery. You need not to 
have pricked me ; there are other men fitter to go out than I. 

Falstaff Go to, peace, Mouldy’ you shall go. Mouldy, 
it IS time you were spent. 

Mouldy, Spent’ no 

Shallow Peace, fellow, peace ’ stand aside , know you 
where you are? — For the other, Sir John, let me see. — Si- 
mon Shadow’ 

Falstaff. Yea, marry, let me have him to sit under, he ’s 
like to be a cold soldier. 

Shallow, Whereas Shadow? 

Shadow, Here, sir. 

Falstaff, Shadow, whose son art thou? 

Shadow, My mother’s son, sir. ng 

Falstaff, Thy mother’s son ’ like enough, and thy father’s 
shadow; so the son of the female is the shadow of the 
male. It is often so, indeed ; but much of the father’s sub- 
stance ’ 

Shallow, Do you like him, Sir John ? 

< Falstaff Shadow'' will sen^'e for summer; prick him, for we 
have a number of shadows to fill up the muster-book. 

Shallow, Thomas Wart! 

Fahtaff, Where 's he ? 

Wart, Here, sir. 

Falstaff. Is thy name Wart ? 130 

Wart, Yea, sir. 

Falstaff. Thou art a very ragged wart. 



Shallow. Shall I prick him down. Sir John ? 

Fahfaff. It were superfluous^ for his apparel is built upon 
his back and the whole frame stands upon pins prick him 
no more. 

Shallow, Ha, ha, ha ! you can do it, sir, you can do it; 1 
commend you well. — Francis Feeble 1 

Feeble, Here, sir. 

Falstaff What trade art thou, Feeble ? ho 

Feeble, A woman^s tailor, sir. 

Shallow, Shall I prick him, sir ? 

Falstaff You may, but if he had been a man^s tailor, he 'd 
ha’ pricked you — Wilt thou make as many holes in an ene- 
my’s battle as thou hast done in a woman’s petticoat? 

Feeble, I will do my good will, sir; you can have no more, 

Falstaff, Well said, good woman’s tailor * well said, coura- 
geous Feeble I thou wilt be as valiant as the wrathful dove 
or most magnanimous mouse — Prick the woman’s tailor 
well, Master Shallow; deep, Master Shallow. iso 

Feeble, I would Wait might have gone, sir. 

Falstaff, I would thou wert a man’s tailor, that thou 
mightst mend him and make him fit to go. — I cannot put 
him to a private soldier that is the leader of so many thou- 
sands; let that suffice, most forcible Feeble. 

Feeble, It shall suffice, sir. 

Falstaff, I am bound to ‘thee, reverend Feeble. — Who is 

Shallow, Peter Bullcalf o’ the green ! 

Falstaff Yea, marry, let ’s see Bullcalf. t6o 

Btdkalf. Here, sir. 

Falstaff, Fore God, a likely fellow Come, prick me Bull- 
calf till he roar again, 

Bullcalf, O Lord 1 good my lord captain, — 

Falstaff, What, dost thou roar before thou art pricked ? 

Bullcalf O Lord, sir 1 I am a diseased man. 

Falstaff, What disease hast thou ? 



BuUcalf. A whoreson cold, sir,^ a cough, sir, which I caught 
with ringing in the king’s affairs upon his coronation-day, 
sir. *70 

Falstaff. Come, thou shalt go to the wars in a gown ; we 
will have away thy cold , and I will take such order that thy 
friends shall ring for thee — Is here all ? 

Shallow. Here is two more called than your number, you 
must have but four here, sir. and so, I pray you, go in with 
me to dinner. 

Falstaff. Come, I will go drink with you, but I cannot tarry 
dinner. I am glad to see you, by my troth, Master Shal- 

Shallow. O, Sir John, do you remember since we lay all 
night in the windmill in Saint George’s field ? iSe 

Falstaff. No more of that, good Master Shallow, no more 
of that 

Shallow. Ha ’ ’t was a merry night And is Jane Night- 
work alive ? 

Falstaff. She lives, Master Shallow. 

Shallow She never could away with me. 

Falstaff. Never, never \ she would always say she could 
not abide Master Shallow. 

Shallow By the mass, I could anger her to the heait 
Doth she hold her own well ? 

Falstaff. Old, old, Master Shallow. 

Shallow. Nay, she must be old ; she cannot choose but be 
* old , certain she ’s old ; and had Robin Nightwork by old 
Nightwork before I came to Clement’s Inn. 

SUence. That ’s fifty-five year ago. 

Shallow. Ha, cousin Silence, that thou hadst seen that 
that this knight and I have seen ! — Ha, Sir John, said I well ? 

Falstaff. We have heard the chimes at midnight, Master 
Shallow. 300 

Shallow. That we have, that we have, that we have; in 
faith, Sir John, we have : our watchword was ‘ Hem, boys !’ — 



Come, let ’s to dinnei ; come, let 's to dinner — Jesu, the 
days that we have seen ' — Come, come 

\Exeimt Falstaffand the yustkes, 

Bullcalf, Good Master Corporate Bardolph, stand my 
friend ; and here’s four Harry ten shillings in French crowns 
for you. In very truth, sir, I had as lief be hanged, sir, as 
go ’ and yet, foi mine own part, sir, I do not care ; but rather, 
because I am unwilling, and, for mine own part, have a desire 
to stay with my friends, else, sir, I did not care, for mine 
own part, so much. 2jr 

Bardolph. Go to \ stand aside 

Mouldy. Amd, good master corporal captain, for my old 
dame’s sake, stand my friend . she has nobody to do any 
thing about her when I am gone, and she is old, and cannot 
help herself You shall have forty, sir. 

Bardolph. Go to \ stand aside. 

Feeble. By my troth, I care not, a man can die but once, 
we owe God a death. I ’ll ne’er bear a base mind * an ’t 
be my destiny, so, an ’t be not, so. No man is too. good to 
serve ’s prince; and let it go which way it will, he that dies 
this year is quit for the next * 223 

Bardolph. Well said ; thou ’rt a good fellow. 

Feeble. Faith, I ’ll bear no base mind. 

Re-enter Falstaff and the Justices. 

Fahtaff. Come, sir, which men shall I have ? 

Shallow. Four of which you please. 

Bardolph. Sir, a word with you — I have three pound to 
free Mouldy and Bullcalf. 

FaUiaff. Go to ; well. 

Shallow. Come, Sir John, which four will you have ? 330 

Fahtaff. Do you choose for me 

Shallow. Marry, then, Mouldy, Bullcalf, Feeble, and 

Falstaff. Mouldy and Bullcalf, — For you, Mouldy, stay at 


home till you are past service ^ — and for your part, Bullcalf, 
grow till you come unto it • I will none of you. 

Shalbw. Sir John, Sir John, do not yourself wrong; they 
are your likeliest men, and I would have you served with the 
best. 239 

Falsiaff Will you tell me, Master Shallow, how to choose 
a man? Care I for the limb, the thews, the statute, bulk, 
and big assemblance of a man ^ Give me the spirit, Master 
Shallow, — Here ’s Wart, you see what a ragged appearance 
It is : a’ shall charge you and discharge you with the motion 
of a pewterer’s hammer, come off and on swifter than he that 
gibbets on the brewer’s bucket — And this same half-faced 
fellow, Shadow, give me this man he presents no maik to 
the enemy, the foeman may with as great aim level at the 
edge of a penknife And for a retreat, — how swiftly will this 
Feeble the woman’s tailor run oif 1 O, give me the spare 
men, and spaie me the great ones. — Put me a caliver into 
Wart’s hand, Bardolph. 252 

Bardolph. Hold, Wart, traverse; thus, thus, thus. 

Falstaff Come, manage me your caliver. So . very well , 
go to, very good, exceeding good O, give me always a 
little, lean, old, chopt, bald shot — Well said, i’ faith, Wart, 
thou ’rt a good scab hold, there ’s a tester for thee. 

Shallow, He is not his craft’s master ; he doth not do it 
nght I remember at Mile-end Gieen, when I lay at Clem- 
ent’s Inn, — I was then Sir Dagonet in Arthur’s show, — there 
w'as a little quiver fellow, and a’ would manage you his piece 
thus ; and a’ would about and about, and come you in and 
come you in : ‘ rah, tah, tah,’ would a’ say , ‘ bounce ’ would a’ 
say; and away again would a* go, and again would a’ come. 
— I shall ne’er see such a fellow. 26s 

Falstaff These fellows will do well, Master Shallow. — 
Farewell, Master Silence, I will not use many words with 
you. — Fare you well, gentlemen both : I thank you , I must 
a dozen mile to-night. — Bardolph, give the soldiers coats. 


90 . 

Shallow, Sir John, the Loid bless you! God prosper 
your affairs 1 God send us peace f At youi return visit our 
house , let our old acquaintance be renewed . peradventure 
I will with ye to the court 273 

Falsiaff, Fore God, I would you would, Master Shallow. 

Shallow, Go to , I have spoke at a word. God keep you. 

Falstaff. Fare you well, gentle gentlemen. {Exeunt yus- 
tuesl\ — On, Bardolph , lead the men away. {Exeunt Bar- 
dolph^ Recruits^ < 5 ^^:] As I return, I will fetch off these jus- 
tices; I do see the bottom of Justice Shallow. Lord, Lord, 
how subject we old men are to this vice of lying ! This same 
starved justice hath done nothing but prate to me of the 
wildness of his youth, and the feats he hath done about 
Turnbull Street , and every third word a lie, duer paid to 
the hearer than the Turk’s tribute. I do remember him at 
Clement’s Inn like a man made after supper of a cheese-par- 
ing: when a’ was naked, he was, for all the world, like a foiked 
radish, with a head fantastically carved upon it with a knife ; 
a’ was so forlorn that his dimensions to any thick sight were 
invincible ; a’ was the very genius of famine. A’ came ever 
in the rearward of the fashion, and sung those tunes that he 
heard the carmen whistle, and sware thdy were his fancies or 
his good-nights. And now is this Vice^s dagger become a 
squire, and talks as familiarly of John o’ Gaunt aS if he had 
been sworn brother to him ; and I ’ll be sworn a’ ne’er saw 
him but once in the Tilt-yard, and then he burst his head for 
crowding among the marshal’s men. I saw it, and told John 
o’ Gaunt he beat his own name; for you might have thrust 
him and all his apparel into an eel-skin ; the case of a treble 
hautboy was a mansion for him, a court: and now has he 
land and beefs. Well, I ’ll be acquainted with him, if I re- 
turn; and it shall go haid but I will make him a philoso- 
pher’s two stones to me. If the young dace be a bait for 
the old pike, I see no reason m the law of nature but I may 
snap at him. Let time shape, and there an end. {Exit 



Scene I. Yorkshire GauUree Foust 
Enter the Archbishop of York, Mowbray, Hastings, and 


Archbishop. What is this forest calFd? 

Hastings. ’T isGaultree Forest, an ^t shall please your grace. 
Archbishop. Here stand, my lords, and send discoveieis 

To know the numbers of our enemies. 



Hastings, We have sent forth already. 

Archbishop. 'T is well done — 

My friends and brethren in these great affaiis, 

I must acquaint you that I have receiv’d 
New'-dated letteis from Noithumberland, 

Their cold intent, tenour and substance, thus 

Here doth he wish his person, with such powers xo 

As might hold soitance with his quality, 

The which he could not levy; whereupon 
He IS retir’d, to ripe his glowing fortunes. 

To Scotland and concludes in hearty prayers 
That your attempts may overlive the hazard 
And feaiful meeting of their opposite 

Mowbray. Thus do the hopes we have in him touch 

And dash themselves to pieces. 

Enter a Messenger. 

Hastings. Now, what news t 

Messenger. West of this forest, scarcely off a mile, 

In goodly form comes on the enemy , 20 

And, by the ground they hide, I judge their number 
Upon or near the rate Of thirty thousand, 

Mowbray The just proportion that we gave them out 
Let us sway on and face them in the field. 

Archbishop What well-appointed leader fronts us here ? 

Enter Westmoreland, 

Mowbray. I think it is my Lord of Westmoreland. 

Westmoreland, Health and fair greeting from oiir general, 
The prince, Lord John and Duke of Lancaster. 

Archbishop Say on, my Lord of Westmoreland, in peace • 
What doth concern your coming ? 

Westmoreland. Then,myJord, 30 

Unto your grace do I m chief address 



The substance of my speech If that rebellion 
Came like itself, m base and abject routs, 

Led on by bloody youth, guarded with rags. 

And countenanc'd by boys and beggary, — 

I say, if damn’d commotion so appear’d, 

In his true, native, and most proper shape, 

You, reverend father, and these noble lords 

Had not been here, to dress the ugly form 

Of base and bloody insurrection 4® 

With your fair honours. — You, lord archbishop, 

Whose see is by a civil peace maintain’d. 

Whose beard the silver hand of peace hath touched, 

Whose learning and good letters peace hath tutor’d, 

Whose white investments figuie innocence, 

The dove and veiy blessed spirit of peace, 

Wherefore do you so ill translate yourself 
Out of the speech of peace that bears such grace, 

Into the harsh and boisterous tongue of war , 

Turning your books to greaves, your ink to blood, s® 

Your pens to lances, and your tongue divine 
To a loud trumpet and a point of war ? 

Archbishop. Wherefore do I this? so the question stands. 
Briefly to this end we are all diseased, 

And with our surfeiting and wanton houis 
Have brought ourselves into a burning fever. 

And we must bleed for it, of which disease 
Our late king, Richard, being infected, died. 

But, my most noble Lord of Westmoreland, 

I take not on me here as a physician, 

Nor do I as an enemy to peace 
Troop in the throngs of military men, 

But rather show awhile like fearful war, 

To diet rank minds sick of happiness 

And purge the obstructions which begin to stop 

Our very veins of life Hear me more plainly. 



I have in equal balance justly weigh’d 

What wrongs our arms may do, what wrongs we suffer, 

And find our griefs heavier than our offences. 

We see which way the stream of time doth run, 70 

And are enforc’d from our most quiet sphere 
By the rough torrent of occasion , 

And have the summary of all our griefs, 

When time shall seive, to show in articles, 

Which long ere this we offer’d to the king, 

And might by no suit gam our audience. 

When we are wrong’d and would unfold our griefs, 

We are denied access unto his person 

Even by those men that most have done us wrong. 

The dangers of the days but newly gone, So 

Whose memory is written on the earth 
With yet appearing blood, and the examples 
Of every minute’s instance, present now, 

Hath put us in these ill-beseeming aims. 

Not to break peace or any branch of it, 

But to establish here a peace indeed. 

Concurring both in name and quality. 

Westmoreland. When ever yet was your appeal denied ? , 
Wherein have you been galled by the king ? 

What peer hath been suborn’d to grate on you, 90 

That you should seal diis lawless bloody book 
Of forg’d rebellion with a seal divine 
And consecrate commotion’s bitter edge ? 

Archbishop* My brother general, the commonwealth, 

To brother born an household cruelty, 

I make my quarrel in particular. 

Westmoreland. There is no need of any such redress; 

Or if there were, it not belongs to you 

Mowbray. Why not to him in part, and to us all 
That feel the bruises of the days before, too 

And suffer the condition of these times 



To lay a heavy and unequal hand 
Upon our honours ? 

Westmoreland. O, my good Lord Mowbray, 

Constiue the times to their necessities, 

And you shall say indeed, it is the time, 

And not the king, that doth you injuries. 

Yet for your part, it not appears to me, 

Either fiom the king or in the present time, 

That you should have an inch of any ground 

To build a grief on. Were you not restor’d no 

To all the Duke of Norfolk’s signories, 

Your noble and right well remember’d father’s ? 

Mowbray. What thing, in honour, had my father lost. 

That need to be reviv’d and breath’d in me ^ 

The king that lov’d him, as the state stood then, 

Was force perforce compell’d to banish him ; 

And then that Henry Bolingbroke and he, 

Being mounted and both roused in their seats, 

Their neighing coursers daring of the spur, 

Their armed staves in charge, their beavers down, 120 

Their eyes of lire sparkling through sights of steel, 

And the loud trumpet blowing them together, 

, ^'hen, then, when there was nothing could have stay’d 
My father fiom the breast of Bolingbroke, — 

O, when the king did throw his warder dowm, 

His own life hung upon the staff he threw; 

Then threw he down himself and all their lives 
That by indictment and by dint of sword 
Have since miscarried under Bolingbroke. 

Westmoreland. You speak, Lord Mowbray, now you know 
not what 130 

The Earl of Hereford was reputed then 
In England the most valiant gentleman. 

Who knows on whom fortune would then have smil’d? 

But if your father had been victor there. 



He ne’er had borne it out of Coventry 

For all the country in a general voice 

Cried hate upon him ^ and all then prayers and love 

Were set on Hereford, whom they doted on 

And bless’d and grac’d indeed, more than the king 

But this IS mere digression from my purpose. 14c 

Here come I from our princely general 

To know your griefs, to tell you fiom his grace 

That he will give you audience; and wherein 

It shall appear that your demands are just, 

You shall enjoy them, every thing set off 
That might so much as think you enemies. 

Mowbray But he hath forc’d us to compel this offer, 

And it proceeds from policy, not love, 

Westmoreland Mowbray, \ ou overween to take it so 
This offer comes from mercy, not from fear ; 150 

For, lo ’ within a ken our army lies, 

Upon mine honour, all too confident 
To give admittance to a thought of fear. 

Our battle is more full of names than yours, 

Our men more perfect in the use of arms. 

Our armour all as strong, our cause the best ; 

Then reason will our hearts should be as good : 

Say you not then our offer is compell’d. 

Mowbray. Well, by my will we shall admit no parley. 
Westmoreland That aigues but the shame of your offence , 
A rotten case abides no handling i6i 

Hastings. Hath the Prince John a full commission, 

In very ample virtue of his father, 

To hear and absolutely to determine 
Of what conditions we shall stand upon ? 

Westmoreland That is intended in the general’s name , 

I muse you make so slight a question. 

Archbishop. Then take, ray Lord of Westmoreland, this 



For this contains our general grievances 

Each several article herein redress’d, xz® 

All members of our cause, both here and hence, 

That are insinewed to this action, 

Acquitted by a true substantial form 
And present execution of our wills 
To us and to our purposes confin’d. 

We come within our awful banks again, 

And knit our powers to the arm of peace. 

Westmoreland, This will I show the general. Please you, 

In sight of both our battles w^e may meet; 

And either end in peace, which God so frame • iSo 

Or to the place of difference call the swords 
Which must decide it. 

Archbishop, My lord, we will do so. 

\Extt Westmoreland, 

Mowbray, There is a thing within my bosom tells me 
That no conditions of our peace can stand. 

Hastings Fear you not that ; if we can make our peace 
Upon such large terms and so absolute 
As our conditions shall consist upon, 

Our peace shall stand as firm as rocky mountains. 

Mowbray, Yea, but our valuation shall be such 
That every slight and false-derived cause, 190 

Yea, every idle, nice, and wanton reason 
Shall to the king taste of this action ; 

That, w^ere our royal faiths martyrs in love, 

We shall be winnowed with so rough a wind 
That even our corn shall seem as light as chaff 
And good from bad find no partition. 

Archbishop, No, no, my lord. Note this : the king is vreary 
Of dainty and such picking grievances. 

For he hath found to end one doubt by death 
Revives two greater in the heirs of life, 




And therefore will he wipe his tables clean, 

And keep no tell-tale to his memory 
That may repeat and history his loss 
To new remembrance , for full well he knows 
He cannot so precisely weed this land 
As his misdoubts present occasion. 

His foes aie so enrooted with his friends 
That, plucking to unfix an enemy. 

He doth unfasten so and shake a friend; 

So that this land, like an offensive wife »jo 

That hath enrag’d him on to offer strokes, 

As he is striking, holds his infant up, 

And hangs resolv’d correction in the arm 
That was upi ear’d to execution 
Hastings Besides, the king hath wasted all his rods 
On late offenders, that he now doth lack 
The very instruments of chastisement, 

So that his power, like to a fangless lion, 

May offer, but not hold. 

Archbishop, ’T is very true , 

And therefore be assur’d, my good lord marshal, 220 

If we do now make our atonement well. 

Our peace will, like a broken limb united, 

Grow stronger for the breaking. 

Mowbray. Be it so. 

Here is return’d my Lord of Westmoreland. 

Re-enter Westmoreland. 

Westmoreland The prince is here at hand ; pleaseth your 

To meet his grace just distance ’tween our armies ? 

Mowbray. Your grace of York, in God’s name, then, set 

Archbishop, Before, and greet his grace ; my lord, tve come. 




Scene II. Another Part of the Forest 
Enier^ from one side, Mowbray, the Archbishop, Hastings, 
and others * fro 7 n the other side, Prince John of Lancas- 
ter Westmoreland; Officeis, and others with them. 
Lancaster You are well encounter’d here, my cousin Mow- 
bray. — 

Good day to you, gentle lord archbishop, — 

And so to you, Lord Hastings, — and to all. — 

My Lord of York, it better show’-’d with you 
When that your flock, assembled by the bell, 

Encircled you to hear wnth reverence 
Your exposition on the holy text, 

Than now to see you here an iron man, 

Cheering a rout of rebels with your drum, 

Turning the word to sword and life to death, w 

That man that sits within a monarch’s heart, 

And ripens in the sunshine of his favour, 

Would he abuse the countenance of the king, 

Alack, what mischiefs might he set abroach 
In shadow of such gieatness * With you, lord bishop, 

It is even so Who hath not heard it spoken 
How deep you were within the books of God ? 

To us the speaker in his parliament. 

To us the imagin’d voice of God himself. 

The very opener and intelligencer 20 

Between the grace, the sanctities, of heaven 
And our dull workings. O, who shall believe 
But you misuse the reverence of your place, 

Employ the countenance and grace of heaven, 

As a false favourite doth his prince’s name, 

In deeds dishonourable ^ You have ta’en up, 

Under the counterfeited zeal of God, 

The subjects of his substitute, my father, 



And both against the peace of heaven and him 
Have heie up-swarm’d them. 

Archbishop. Good my Lord of Lancaster, 

I am not here against youi father’s peace; %% 

But, as I told my Lord of Westmoreland, 

The time misorder’d doth, in common sense, 

Crowd us and crush us to this monstrous form, 

To hold our safety up. I sent your grace 
The parcels and particulars of our grief, 

The which hath been with scorn shov’d fiom the court, 
Whereon this Hydra son of war is born ; 

Whose dangerous eyes may well be charm’d asleep 
With grant of our most just and right desires, 40 

And true obedience, of this madness cur’d, 

Stoop tamely to the foot of majesty. 

Mowbtay. If not, we ready are to tiy our fortunes 
To the last man. 

Hastings. And though we here fall down, 

We have supplies to second our attempt: 

If they miscarry, theiis shall second them ; 

And so success of mischief shall be born, 

And heir from heir shall hold this quarrel up 
W^hiles England shall have generation. 

Lancaster. You are too shallow, Hastings, much too shal- 
low, ,50 

To sound the bottom of the after-times. 

Westmoreland. Pleaseth your giace to answer them directly 
How far forth 5^ou do like their articles. 

Lancaster. I like them all, and do allow them well, 

And swear here, by the honour of my blood, 

My father’s purposes have been mistook, 

And some about him have too lavishly 
Wrested his meaning and authoiity. — 

My lord, these griefs shall be with speed redress’d ; 

Upon my soul, they shall. If this may please you, 




Discharge your powers unto their several counties, 

As we will ours , and here between the armies 
Let drink together friendly and embrace, 

That all their eyes may bear those tokens home 
Of our restored love and amity. 

Archbishop I take your pnncely w^ord for these redresses. 
Lancaster. I give it you, and will maintain my word , 

And thereupon I drink unto your grace 

Hastings. Go, captain, and deliver to the army 
This news of peace , let them have pay, and part : 7® 

I know it will well please them. Hie thee, captain. 

\Extt Officer. 

Archbishop. To you, my noble Lord of Westmoreland. 
Westmoreland. I pledge your grace , and, if you knew what 

I have bestow’d to breed this present peace, 

You would drink freely . but my love to ye 
Shall show itself more openly hereafter. 

Archbishop. I do not doubt you. 

Westmoreland. I am glad of it. — 

Health to my lord and gentle cousin, Mowbray. 

Mowbray. You wash me health in very happy season ; 

Foi I am, on the sudden, something ill. so 

Archbishop. Against ill chances men are ever merry; 

But heaviness foreruns the good event 
Westmoreland. Therefore be merry, coz ; since sudden sor- 

Serves to say thus, — ^some good thing comes to-morrow. 
Archbishop. Believe me, I am passing light in spirit 
Mowbray. So much the worse, if your own rule be true. 

[Shouts withm 

Lancaster. The w’^ord of peace is render’d; hark, how they 
shout ^ 

Mowbray. This had been cheerful after victory. 
Archbishop. A peace is of the nature of a conquest; 



For then both parties nobly aie subdued, 90 

And neither party loser. 

Lancaster. Go, my loi d, 

And let our army be discharged too. — \Exit Westmoreland. 
And, good my lord, so please you, let our tiains 
March by us, that we may peruse the men 
We should have cop’d withal 
Archbishop. Go, good Lord Hastings, 

And, eie they be dismiss’d, let them march by. 

, \Exit Hastings. 

Lancaster. I trust, lords, we shall lie to-night together. — 

Re-enter Westmoreland. 

Now cousin, wherefore stands our army still ? 

Westmoreland The leaders, having charge from you to 

Will not go off until they hear you speak. ioq 

Lancaster They know their duties. 

Re-enter Hastings. 

Hastings My loid, our army is dispers’d already. 

Like youthful steers unyok’d, they take their courses 
East, west, north, south , or, like a school broke up, 

Each huiries toward his home and sporting-place 
Westmoreland Good tidings, my Lord Hastings, for the 

I do arrest thee, traitor, of high treason * 

And 3^ou, lord archbishop, and you, Lord Mowbray, 

Of capital tieason I attach you both 
Mowbray. Is this proceeding just and honourable ? no 
Westmoreland. Is \^our assembly so ? 

Archbishop Will you thus break your faith ? 

Lancaster. I pawn’d thee none. 

I promis’d you redress of these same grievances 
Whereof you did complain; which, by mine honour, 



I will perfoim with a most Christian care. 

But for you, rebels, look to taste the due 
Meet for rebellion and such acts as yours. 

Most shallowly did }ou these arms commence, 

Fondly brought here and foolishly sent hence. — 

Strike up our drums, pui sue the scatter’d stray, 

God, and not we, hath safely fought to-day. — 

Some guard these traitors to the block of death, 

Treason’s tiue bed and yielder up of breath. \Exeunt 

Scene II I Another Fart of the Forest 

Alarum. Excursions Enter Falstaff a7id Colevile, 

Falstaff. What ’s your name, sir? of what condition aie 
you, and of what place, I pray ? 

Cokvik. I am a knight, sir, and my name is Colevile of 
the Dale. 

Falstaff. Well, then, Colevile is }'our name, a knight is your 
degree, and your place the dale Colevile shall be still your 
name, a traitor your degree, and the dungeon your place, a 
place deep enough; so shall you be still Colevile of the dale. 

Colevile Aie not yon Sir John Falstaff? 9 

Falstaff. As good a man as he, sir, whoe’er I am. Do ye 
yield, sir ^ or shall I sweat for you ? If I do sweat, they are 
the drops of thy loverS, and they w^eep for thy death ; there- 
-fore rouse up fear and trembling, and do observance to my 

Colevile. I think you are Sir John Falstaff, and in that 
thought yield me. 

Falstaff. I have a whole school of tongues in this belly of 
miue, and not a tongue of them all speaks any other word 
but my name. An I had but a belly of any indifferency, I 
were simply the most active fellow in Europe; my w^omb, 
my womb, my womb undoes me- — Here comes our general. 



Enter John of Lancaster, Westmoreland, Blunt, 

and others. 

Lancaster. The heat is past; follow no further now. — 

Call in the powers, good cousin Westmoreland, — 23 

\Exit Westmoreland. 

Now, Falstaif, where have you been all this while ? 

When every thing is ended, then you come. 

These tardy tricks of yours will, on my life, 

One time or other break some gallows’ back, 

Falstaff. I would be sorry, my lord, but it should be thus ; 
I never knew yet but rebuke and check was the reward of 
valour. Do you think me a swallow, an arrow, or a bullet t 
have I, in my poor and old motion, the expedition of thought ? 
I have speeded hither with the very extremes! inch of possi- 
bility : I have foundered nine score and odd posts ; and here, 
travel-tainted as I am, have, in my pure and immaculate val- 
our, taken Sir John Colevile of the Dale, a most furious 
knight and valorous enemy. But what of that ? he saw me, 
and yielded ; that I may justly say, with the hook-nosed fel- 
low of Rome, I came, saw, and overcame. as 

Lancaster. It was more of his courtesy than your deserv- 

Falstaff. I know not , here he is, and here I yield him ; 
and I beseech your grace, let it be booked with the rest of 
this day’s deeds, or, by the Lord, I will have it in a particu- 
lar ballad else, with mine own picture on the top on ’t. Cole- 
vile kissing my foot. To the which course if I be enforced^^ 
if you do not all show like gilt two-pences to me, and I in the 
clear sky of fame o’ershine you as much as the full moon 
doth the cinders of the element, which show like pins’ heads 
to her, believe not the word of the noble. Therefore let me 
have right, and let desert mount. 50 

Lancaster. Thine ’s too heavy to mount. 

Falstaff. Let it shine, then. 



Lancaster, Thine too thick to shine. 

Falstaff, Let it do something, my good lord, that may do 
me good, and call it what you will, 

Lancaster, Is thy name Colevile ? 

Colevtle, It IS, my lord 

Lancaster, A famous rebel ait thou, Colevile. 

Falstaff, And a famous true subject took him. 

Colevtle, I am, my lord, but as my betters are 6 o 

That led me hither : had they been ruFd by me, 

You should have won them dearer than you have. 

Falstaff, I know not how they sold themselves, but thou, 
like a kind fellow, gavest thyself away gratis, and I thank 
thee for thee. 

Re-enter Westmoreland. 

Lancaster, Now, have you left pursuit ? 

Westmoreland, Retreat is made and execution stay’d. 

Lancaster, Send Colevile with his confederates 
To York, to present execution. — 

Blunt, lead him hence, and see you guard him sure. — 70 

\Bxeunt Blunt and others with CokPtle, 
And now dispatch we toward the court, my lords. 

I hear the king my father is sore sick , 

Our news shall go before us to his majesty, — 

Which, cousin, you shall bear to comfort him, 

And we with sober speed will follow you. 

Falstaff, My lord, I beseech you, give me leave to go 
through Gloucestershire ; and^ when you come to court, stand 
my good lord, pray, in your good report. 

Lancaster, Fare you well, Falstaff ; I, in my condition, 
Shall better speak of you than you deserve. so 

[Exeunt all hut Falstaff, 

Falstaff, I would you had but the wit, ’t were better than 
your dukedom. Good faith, this same young sober-blooded 
boy doth not love me ; nor a man cannot make him laugh : 
but that ^5 no marvel, he drinks no wine. There 's never 



none of these demure boys come to any proofs for thin diink 
doth so over-cool then blood, and making tnany fish-meals, 
that they are generally fools and cowards ; which some of us 
should be too, but for inflammation. A good sherris-sack 
hath a two -fold operation in it It ascends me into the 
brain ; dries me there all the foolish and dull and crudy va- 
pours which environ it , makes it apprehensive, quick, for- 
getive, full of nimble, fiery, and delectable shapes, which, de- 
livered o^er to the voice, the tongue, which is the birth, be- 
comes excellent wit. The second pioperty of your excellent 
sherris is the warming of the blood , which, before cold and 
settled, left the liver white and pale, which is the badge of 
pusillanimity and cowardice ; but the sherris w^arms it and 
makes it course from the inwards to the parts extreme. It 
illumineth the face, which as a beacon gives warning to all 
the r^est of this little kingdom, man, to arm ; and then the 
vital commoners and inland petty spirits mustei me all to 
their captain, the heart, who, gieat and puffed up with this 
retmue, doth any deed of courage , and this valour comes of 
sherris. So that skill in the weapon is nothing without sack, 
for that sets it a*work , and learning a mere hoard of gold 
kept by a devil, till sack commences it and sets it m act and 
use. Hereof comes it that Prince Harry is valiant ; for the 
cold blood he did naturally inherit of his father, he hath, like 
lean, sterile, and bare land, manured, husbanded, and tille4 
wi^i excellent endeavour of drinking good and good store of 
fertile sherris, that he is become very hot and valiant. If I 
bad a thousand sons, the first humane principle I would 
teach them should be, to forswear thin potations and to ad- 
dict themselves to sack. — ' 114 

, Enkr "Ba-bdolvb., 

How now, Bardolph > 

Bardolph. The army is discharged all and gone. 

Fahtaff Let them go. I '11 through Gloucestershire; and 



there will I visit Master Robert Shallow, esquiie. I have him 
already tempering between my finger and my thumb, and 
shoitly will I seal with him. Come away. \Exeunt. 

Scene IV. Westminster. The yeritsalem Chamber. 
Enter the King, the Princes Thomas of Clarence and 
Humphrey of Gloucester, Warwick, and others 

King. Now, lords, if God doth give successful end 
To this debate that bleedeth at our doors, 

We will our youth lead on to higher fields 
And draw no swords but what aie sanctified. 

Our navy is addressed, our power collected. 

Our substitutes in absence well invested, 

And every thing lies level to our wish , 

Only, we want a little personal strength, 

And pause us, till these rebels, now afoot, 

Come under ne*ath the yoke of goi'ernment. 10 

Warwick. Both which we doubt not but }our majesty 
Shall soon enjoy. 

King Humphrey, my son of Gloucester, 

Where is the prince your brother? 

Gloucester. I think he ’s gone to hunt, my lord, at Windsor. 

King. And how accompanied ? 

Gloucester. I do not know, my lord. 

King. Is not his brother, Thomas of Clarence, with him ? 

Gloucester No, my good lord ; he is in presence here. 

Clarence. What would ray lord and father ? 

King Nothing but well to thee, Thomas of Clarence. 

How chance thou art not with the prince thy brothei 20 
He loves thee, and thou dost neglect him, Thomas. 

Thou hast a better place in bis affection 
Than all thy brothers , cherish it, my boy, 

And noble offices thou raayst effect 
Of mediation, after I am dead, 


Between his greatness and thy other bi ethren. 

Therefore omit him not 3 blunt not his love, 

Nor lose the good advantage of his grace 
By seeming cold or careless of his will, 

For he is gracious, if he be observ’d. 30 

He hath a tear for pity and a hand 

Open as day for melting charity j 

Yet notwithstanding, being incens’d, he ’s flint, < 

As humorous as winter, and as sudden 
As flaws congealed in the spring of day. 

His temper, therefore, must be well observ’d. 

Chide him for faults, and do it reverently, 

When you perceive his blood inclin’d to mirth ; 

But, being moody, give him line and scope, 

Till that his passions, like a whale on ground, 40 

Confound themselves with working. Learn this, Thomas, 
And thou shalt prove a shelter to thy fjiends, 

A hoop of gold to bind thy brother’s in^ 

That the united vessel of their blooch, ^ 

Mingled with venom of suggestion — 

As, force perforce, the age will pour it in — 

Shall never leak, though it do work as strong 
As aconitum or rash gunpowder 

Clarence, I shall observe him with all care and love. 

King, Why art thou not at Windsor with him, Thomas ? ^ 
Clarence, He is not there to-day , he dines in London. 
Ktng, And how accompanied ? canst thou tell that 
Clarence, With Poms, and other his continual followers. 
Ktng. Most subject is the fattest soil to weeds, 

And he, the noble image of my youth, 

Is overspread with them ; therefore my grief 

Stretches itself beyond the hour of death 

The blood weeps from my heart when I do shape 

In forms imaginary the unguided days 

And rotten times that you shall look upon ^ 



When I am sleeping with my ancestors. 

For when his headstrong riot hath no curb, 

When rage and hot blood are his counsellors, 

When means and lavish manners meet together, 

O, with what wings shall his affections fly 
Towards fronting peril and oppos’d decay 1 

Warwick My gracious lord, you look beyond him quite. 
The prince but studies his companions 
Like a strange tongue, wherein, to gain the language, 

’T is needful that the most immodest word 70 

Be look’d upon and learn’d; which once attain’d, 

Your highness knows, comes to -no further use 
But to be known and hated. So, like gross terms. 

The prince will in the perfectness of time 
Cast off his followers j and their memory 
Shall as a pattern or a measure live, 

By which his grace' m,U5| mete the lives of others, 

Turning past eytts^.tp advantages. 

King, ’T IS* seldom Vhen the bee doth leave her comb 
In the dead carrion. — 

Enter Westmoreland. 

Who ’s heie ? Westmoreland I so 
Westmoreland, Health to my sovereign, and new happi- 

Added to that that I am to deliver I 
Prince John your son doth kiss your grace’s band; 
Mowbray, the Bishop Scroop, Hastings, and all 
Are brought to the correction of your law. 

There is not now a rebel’s sword unsheath’d, 

But Peace puts forth her olive everywhere. 

The manner how this action hath been borne 
Here at more leisure may your highness read, 

With every course m his particular. 

King, O Westmoreland, thou art a summer bird, 




Which ever in the haunch of winter sings 
The lifting up of day. — 

Enter Harcourt. 

Look, here ’s more news. 

Harcourt From enemies heaven keep your majesty; 

And, when they stand against you, may they fall 

As those that I am come to tell you oP 

The Earl Northumberland and the Lord Bardolph, 

With a gieat power of English and of Scots, 

Are by the sheriff of Yorkshire overthrown. 

The manner and true order of the fight roo 

This packet, please it you, contains at large. 

King And w^herefofe should" these good news make me 

Will Fortune never come with both hands full, 

But write her fair words still in foulest letters ? 

She either gives a stomach and no food, — 

Such are the poor, m .health ; or else a feast 
And takes away the stopiach, — such are the rich, 

That have abundance and enjoy it not 
I should rejoice now at this'iiappy news; 

And now my sight fails, and my brain is giddy. — itio 

O me ^ come near me, now I am much ill, 

Gloucester, Comfort, your majesty I 
. Clarence O my royal father » 

Wesimo}ela?id, My sovereign lord, cheer up yourself, look 

Warwick, Be patient, princes , you do know, these fits 
Are with his highness very ordinary. 

Stand from him, give him air; he ’ll straight be well. 

Clarence, No, no, he cannot long hold out these pangs. 
The incessant care and labour of his mind 
Hath wrought the mure that should confine it in 
So thin that life looks through and will break out. 




Gloucester. The people fear me ^ for they do observe 
tJnfather’d heirs and loathly births of nature . 

The seasons change their manners, as the year 
Had found some months asleep and leaped them over. 

Clarence. The iiver hath thrice flowM, no ebb between, 
And the old folk, time ’s doting chronicles, 

Say It did so a little time before 

That our great-giandsire, Edward, sick’d and died. 

Wat'wtck. Speak lower, piinces, for the king recovers. 
Gloucester. This apoplexy will ceitain be his end. 130 
King. I pray you, take me up, and bear me hence 
Into some other chamber ; softly, pray. [Exeunt 

Scene V, Another Chamber. 

The King lying on a ^(?/f.*XLARENCE, Gloucester, Warwick, 
and others in attendance. 

King. Let there be no noise made, my gentle friends \ 
Unless some dull and favourable hand 
Will whisper music to my weary spirit . 

Warwick. Call for the music in the other room. 

King. Set me the crown upon my pillow here. 

Clarence His eye is hollow, and ^le changes much. 
Warwick. Less noise, less noise I 

Enter Prince Henry. 

Prince. Who saw the Duke of Clarence ? 

Clarence I am hei e, brother, full of heaviness. 

Prince. How now ! rain within doors, and none abroad ! 
How doth the king > xo 

Gloucester Exceeding ill 

Prince. Heard he the good news yet ? 

Tell It him. 

Gloucester. He alter’d much upon the heai mg it. 

Prince. If he be sick with joy, he will recover 
Without physic. 



Warwick, Not so much noise, my lords. — Sweet prince, 
speak low ; 

The king your father is dispos’d to sleep 

Clarence, Let us withdraw into the other room. 

Warwick Will ’t please your grace to go along with us ^ 
JFnnce, No; I will sit and watch here by the king — «o 

\Exeunt all hut the Frtnce, 
Why doth the crown he there upon his pillow, 

Being so troublesome a bedfellow? 

O polish’d perturbation ^ golden care ! 

That keep’st the ports of slumber open wide 

To many a watchful night ! sleep with it now 1 

Yet not so sound and half so deeply sweet 

As he whose brow with homely biggen bound 

Snores out the watch of night O majesty 1 

When thou dost pinch thy bearer,. thou dost sit 

Like a rich armour worn in heat of day, 30 

That scalds with safet}^ By his gates of breath 

There lies a downy feather which stirs not; 

Did he suspire, that light and weightless down 
Perforce must move. — My gracious lord * my father ! — 

This sleep is sound indeed ; this is a sleep 
That from this golden rigol hath divorc’d 
So many English kings. Thy due from me 
Is tears and heavy soirows of the blood, 

Which nature, love, and filial tenderness 

Shall, O dear father, pay thee plenteously, 40 

My due from thee is this imperial crown, 

Which, as immediate from thy place and blood, 

Derives itself to me. Lo, here it sits, 

Which God shall guard ; and put the world’s whole strength 
Into ‘one giant arm, it shall not force 
This lineal honour from me : this from thee 
Will I to mine leave, as ^t is left to me. \Exit, 

King. Warwick I Gloucester I Clarence i 



Re-enter Warwick, Gloucester, Clarence, and the rest. 
Clarence Doth the king call ? 

Warwick. What would your majesty? How fares your 
grace ? so 

King Why did you leave me here alone, my Iprds ? 
Clarence We left the prince my brother here, my liege, 
Who undertook to sit and watch by you. 

Ktfig. The Prince of Wales I Where is he? let me see 
him ; 

He is not here. 

Warwick. This door is open j he is gone this way. 
Gloucester. He came not through the chamber where we 

King. Where is the crown? who took it fiom my pillow? 
Wartvtck When we withdrew, my hege, we left it here. 
King The prince hath ta’en it hence ; go, seek him out 
Is he so hasty that he doth suppose 6i 

My sleep my death ? — 

Find him, my Lord of Warwick , chide him hither, 

\Exit Warwick. 

This part of his conjoins with my disease, 

And helps to end me — See, sons, what things you are ^ 

How quickly nature falls into revolt 
When gold becomes her object * 

For this the foolish over-careful fathers 

Have broke their sleep with thoughts, their brains with care, 

Their bones with industry; 70 

For this they have engrossed and pil’d up 

The canker’d heaps of strange-achieved gold ; 

For this they have been thoughtful to invest 
Their sons with arts and martial exercises • 

When, like the bee, culling from every flower 
The virtuous sweets, 

Our thighs pack’d with wax, our mouths with honey. 



We bring it to the hive, and, like the bees. 

Are murthered for our pains This bittei taste 

Yield his engrossments to the ending father — so 

Re-enter Warwick 

Now, where. IS he that will not stay so long 
Till his friend sickness hath determin’d me^ 

Wa^-wick My lord, I found the prince in the next loom, 
Washing with kindly tears his gentle cheeks. 

With such a deep demeanour in great soirow 
That tyranny, which never quaff’d but blood, 

Would, by beholding him, have wash’d his knife 
With gentle eye-drops. He is coming hither 
King But wherefore did he take away the crown ^ 

Re-enter Prince Henry 

Lo, where he comes — Come hither to me, Harry. — 90 

Depart the chamber; leave us here alone 

\Exeunt Warwick and the rest 
Prince, I never thought to hear you speak again. 

King Thy wish was father, Hairy, to that thought, 

I stay too long by thee, I weary thee 
Dost thou so hunger for mine empty chair 
That thou wilt needs invest thee with my honours 
Before thy hour be ripe? O foolish youth ! 

Thou seek’st the greatness that will overwhelm thee 
Stay but a little ; for my cloud of dignity 
Is held from falling with so weak a wind loo 

That it will quickly drop my day is dim. 

Thou hast stolen that which after some few hours 
Were thine without offence, and at my death 
Thou hast seal’d up my expectation ; 

Thy life did manifest thou lov’dst me not, 

And thou wilt have me die assur’d of it 
Thou hid’st a thousand daggers in thy thoughts, 


Which thou hast whetted on thy stony heart, 

To stab at half an hour of my life. 

What ’ canst thou not forbear me half an hour ? 
Then get thee gone and dig my grave thyself, 

And bid the merry bells ring to thine ear 
That thou art crowned, not that I am dead 
Let all the tears that should bedew my hearse 
Be drops of balm to sanctify thy head . 

Only compound me with forgotten dust, 

Give that which gave thee life unto the worms. 

Pluck down my officers, break my decrees , 

For now a time is come to mock at foim 
Hairy the Fifth is crown’d ’ up, vanity * 

Down, royal state • all you sage counsellors, hence * 
And to the English court assemble now, 

From every region, apes of idleness * 

Now, neighbour confines, purge you of your scum i 
Have you a ruffian that will swear, drink, dance, 
Revel the night, rob, murther, and commit 
The oldest sins the newest kind of ways^ 

Be happy, he will trouble you no more ; 

England shall double gild his tieble guilt, 

England shall give him office, honour, might , 

For the fifth Harry from curb’d license plucks 
The muzzle of restraint, and the wild dog 
Shall flesh his tooth on every innocent. 

0 my poor kingdom, sick with civil blows ’ 

When that my care could not withhold thy i lots, 
What wilt thou do when not is thy caie ^ 

O, thou wilt be a wilderness again, 

Peopled with wolves, thy old inhabitants ! 

Prtnce, O, pardon me, ray liege i but for my tears, 
The moist impediments unto my speech, 

1 had forestall’d this dear and deep rebuke 
Ere you with grief had spoke and I had heaid 


The course of it so far. There is your crown ^ 

And He that wears the crown immortally 
Long guard it yours ! If I affect it more 
Than as youi honour and as your lenowm, 

Let me no more from this obedience rise, 

Which my most inward tiue and duteous spirit 
Teacheth, this prostrate and exterior bending. 

God witness with me, when I here came in, 150 

And found no course of breath within your majesty, 

How cold It struck my heart * If I do feign, 

O, let me in my present wildness die, 

And never live to show the incredulous woild 
The noble change that I have purposed ! 

Coming to look on you, thinking you dead, 

And dead almost, my liege, to think you were, 

I spake unto this crown as having sense, 

And thus upbi aided it* ‘The care on thee depending 
Hath fed upon the body of my father; »6o 

Therefore, thou best of gold art woist of gold. 

Other, less fine in carat, is more precious, 

Preserving life in medicine potable , 

But thou, most fine, most honoured, most renown’d, 

Hast .eat thy bearer up.’ Thus, my most royal liege, 
Accusing It, I put it on my head, 

To try with it, as with an enemy 

That had before my face murther’d my father, 

The quarrel of a true inheritor. 

But if It did infect my blood with joy, 170 

Or swell my thoughts to any strain of pride, 

If any rebel or vain spirit of mine 
Did with the least affection of a welcome 
Give entertainment to the might of it, 

Let God foi ever keep it from my head, 

And make me as the pooiest vassal is 
That doth with awe and teiror kneel to it ^ 


King. O my son, 

God put it in thy mind to take it hence, 

That thou mightst win the more thy father’s love, 
Pleading so wisely in excuse of it^ 

Come hither, Hairy, sit thou by my bed, 

And hear, I think, the very latest counsel 
That ever I shall breathe. God knows, my son, 

By what by-paths and indirect crook’d ways 
I met this Clown; and I myself know well 
How troublesome it sat upon my head 
To thee it shall descend with better quiet, 

Better opinion, better confirmation , 

Foi all the soil of the achievement goes 
With me into the earth It seem’d m me 
But as an honour snatch’d with boisterous hand, 

And I had many living to upbraid 
My gain of it by their assistances , 

Which daily grew to quarrel and to bloodshed, 
Wounding supposed peace. All these bold feais 
Thou see st with peril I have answered , 

For all my reign hath been but as a scene 
Acting that argument : and now^ my death 
Changes the mode ; for what in me was pui chas’d, 
Falls upon thee in a more fairer sort ; 

So thou the garland wear’st successively. 

Yet, though thou stand'st more sure than I could do, 
Thou art not firm enough, since griefs are green , 

And all my friends, which thou must make thy friends, 
Have but their stings and teeth newly ta’en out ; 

By whose fell working I was first advanc’d 
And by whose power I well might lodge a fear 
To be again displac’d ’ which to avoid, 

I cut them off, and had a purpose now 
To lead out many to the Holy Land, 

Lest rest and lying still might make them look 


Too near unto my state. Therefore, my Harry, 

Be It thy course to busy giddy minds 

With foreign quarrels, that action, hence borne out, 

May waste the memory of the foimer days 
More would I, but my lungs are wasted so 
That stiength of speech is utterly denied me — 

How I came by the crown, O God forgive, 

And grant it may with thee in true peace live * 220 

Fn?ice My gracious liege, 

You won it, wore it, kept it, gave it me • 

Then plain and right must my possession be ; 

Which I with more than with a common pain 
’Gainst all the world will lightfully maintain 

Enter Prince John of Lancaster 
King Look, look, here comes my John of Lancaster 
Lancaster Health, peace, and happiness to my loyal fa- 
ther ’ 

Ktng Thou biing’st me happiness and peace, son John, 
But health, alack, with youthful wings is flown 
Fiom this baie wither’d trunk upon thy sight 230 

My worldly business makes a period. 

Where is my Lord of W arwick ? 

Prince My Lord of Warwick ! 

Enter Warwick, and others 
King. Doth any name particular belong 
Unto the lodging where I first did swoon ? 

Warwick. ’T is call’d Jerusalem, my noble lord. 

King Laud be to God * even theie my life must end. 

It hath been prophesied to me many years, 

I should not die but in Jerusalem, 

Which vainly I suppos’d the Holy Land — 

But bear me to that chamber there I ’ll lie ; 240 

In that Jerusalem shall Harry die. \Exeunf 

Stand by me heie. Master Robert Shallow (\ s S) 


Scene I. Gloucestershire Shallow^s House. 

Enter Shallow, Falstaff, Bardolph, and Page. 
Shallow. By cock and pie, sir, you shall not away to-night. 
— Davy, I say I 



Falstaff, You must excuse me, Master Robert Shallow 

Shallow, I will not excuse you, you shall not be excused, 
excuses shall not be admitted , theie is no excuse shall serve, 
you shall not be excused — Why, Davy ^ 

Enter Davy. 

Davy. Here, sir. 

Shallow Davy, Davy, Davy, Davy, let me see, Davy ; iel 
me see, Davy, let me see yea, mairy, William cook, bid 
him come hither —Sir John, you shall not be excused. lo 

Davy. Many, sir, thus, those precepts cannot be served 
and, again, sir, shall we sow the headland with wheat? 

Shallow. With red wheat, Davy. But for William cook; 
— are there no young pigeons ? 

Davy. Yes, sir.— Here is now the smith’s note for shoeing 
and plough-irons. 

Shallow. Let it be cast and paid.— Sir John, you shall not 
be excused. 

Davy. Now, sit, a new link to the bucket must needs be 
had and, sir, do you mean to stop any of William’s wages, 
about the sack he lost the other day at Hinckley fair ? 2x 

Shallow. A’ shall answer it— Some pigeons, Davy, a couple 
of short-legged hens, a joint of mutton, and any pretty httle 
tiny kjgksbaws, tell William cook. 

Davy. Doth the man of war stay all night, sir? 

Shallow. Yea, Davy. I Will use him well , a friend i’ court 
is better than a penny in purse. Use his men well, Davy; 
for they are arrant knaves, and will backbite. 

Davy. No worse than they are backbitten, sir; for they 
have marvellous foul linen. 30 

Shallow Well conceited, Davy. About thy business, Davy. 

Davy. I beseech you, sir, to countenance William Yisoi of 
Woncot against Clement Peikes of the hill. 

Shallow There is many complaints, Davy, against that 
Visor; that Visor is an arrant knave, on my knowledge. 



Davy I grant your worship that he is a knave, sir, but 
yet, God foibid, sir, but a knave should have some counte- 
nance at his friend’s request. An honest man, sir, is able to 
speak for himself, when a knave is not I have served your 
worship truly, sir, this eight years, and if I cannot once or 
twice in a quarter bear out a knave against an honest man, I 
have but a very little credit with your worship. The knave 
IS mine honest friend, sir, therefore, I beseech your worship, 
let him be countenanced 44 

Shallow. Go to, I say he shall have no wrong Look 
about, Davy — {Exit Davy^ Wheie aie you, Sir John^ 
Come, come, come, oif with your boots — Give me your hand, 
Master Bardolph 

Bardolph. I am glad to see your worship 

Shallow. I thank thee with all my heart, kind Master Bar- 
dolph , — and welcome, my tall fellow {to the Page] — Come, 
Sir John. 52 

Fahtaff. I ’ll follow you, good Master Robert Shallow. — 
{Exit Shallow] Bardolph, look to our horses — {Exeunt 
Bardolph and Page] If I were sawed into quantities, I 
should make four dozen of such bearded hermits’ staves as 
Master Shallow. It is a wonderful thing to see the sembla- 
ble coherence of his men’s spirits and his : they, by obseiv- 
ing of him, do beai themselves like foolish justices j he, by 
conversing with them, is turned into a justice-like serving- 
man Their spirits are so married in conjunction with the 
paiticipation of society that they flock together in consent, 
like so many wild-geese If I had a suit to Master Shallow, 
I would humour his men with the imputation of being near 
their master; if to his men, I would curry with Master Shal- 
low that no man could better command his seivants. It is 
certain that either wise bearing or ignorant carnage is caught, 
as men take diseases, one of another, therefore let men take 
heed of their company. I will devise matter enough out of 
this Shallow to keep Piince Hairy in continual laughter the 



wealing out of six fashions, which is four teinis, or two ac- 
tions, and 2i shall laugh v\ithout intei valiums O, it is much 
that a lie with a slight oath and a jest tvith a sad brow will 
do with a fellow that never had the ache in his shoulders ’ 
O, you shall see him laugh till his face be like a wet cloak 
ill laid up • 76 

Shallow \_Withii{\ Sir John * 

J^alstaff I come, Master Shallow ; I come, Master Shal- 
low. \Exit 

Scene II Weshninster The Palace 
Enter Warwick and the Lord Chief-Justice, meetifig 
Warwick How now, my lord chief-justice ’ whither away? 
Chief -yustice. How doth the king ? 

Warwick Exceeding well , his cares are now all ended. 
Chief- fusiice I hope, not dead 

Warunck He ’s walked the w^ay of nature, 

And to our purposes he lives no inoie 

Chief - fustice. I tvould his majesty had call’d me with 
him , 

The service that I truly did his life 
Hath left me open to all injuries 

Warwick. Indeed I think the young king loves you not. 
Chief- fusfice. I know he doth not, and do arm myself 10 
To welcome the condition of the time. 

Which cannot look moie hideously upon me 
Than I have drawn it in my fantasy. 

Enter Lancaster, Clarence, Gloucester, Westmoreland, 
and others. 

Warwick Heie come the heavy issue of dead Hairy. 

O that the living Hariy had the temper 
Of him, the woi st of these three gentlemen ! 

How many nobles then should hold then* places. 

That must strike sail to spirits of vile sort! 



Chief- yiistice. O God, I fear all will be overturn’d ’ 
Lancaster Good morrow, cousin Warwick, good morrow. 

Gloucester ) ^ , 

Clarence. } Good morrow, cousin. 

Lancaster. We meet like men that had forgot to speak. 
Warwick. We do remember, but our argument 
Is all too heavy to admit much talk. 

Lancaster. Well, peace be with him that hath made us 
heavy ! 

Chief- fustice. Peace be with us, lest we be heavier • 
Gloucester. O, good my lord, you have lost a friend indeed ! 
And I dare swear you borrow not that face 
Of seeming sorrow, it is suie your own. 29 

Lancaster Though no man be assur’d w'hat grace to find, 
You stand in coldest expectation. 

I am the sorrier , would ’t were otherwise. 

Clarence. Well, you must now speak Sir John Falstaff fair; 
Which swims against your stream of quality. 

Chief -ytistke. Sweet princes, what I did, I did in honour, 
Led by the impaitial conduct of my soul; 

And never shall you see that I will beg 
A ragged and foiestall’d remission 
If truth and upright innocency fail me, 

I ’ll to the king my master that is dead, 40 

And tell him who hath sent me after him. 

Wai^ick. Here comes the prince. 

Enter ILmQ Henry the attended 
Chief-Justice Good morrow , and God save your majesty ! 
King. This new and goigeous garment, majesty, 

Sits not so easy on me as you think- — 

Brothers, you mix your sadness with some fear • 

This is the English, not the Turkish court; 

Not Amurath an Amurath succeeds, 

But Hany Hairy. Yet be sad, good bi others, 



For, by my faith, it very well becomes }ou. 50 

Soirow so royally in you appeals 

That I will deeply put the fashion on 

And wear it in my heait. Why then, be sad ; 

But entertain no more of it, good brothers, 

Than a joint buiden laid upon us all 
For me, by heaven, I bid you be assur’d, 

I ’ll be your father and your brother too, 

Let in,e but bear 3’our love, I ’ll bear your cares. 

Yet weep that Harry 's dead, and so will I , 

But Harry lives, that shall convert those tears 60 

By number into hours of happiness. 

Fn?ices. We hope no other from your majesty. 

Ktfig. You all look strangely on me, — and you most, 

You are, I think, assur’d I love you not. 

Chief -yustice. I am assur’d, if I be measur’d rightly, 

Your majesty hath no just cause to hate me 
King. No? 

How might a prince of my great hopes forget 
So great indignities you laid upon me? 

What ^ rate, rebuke, and roughly send to prison^ 70 

The immediate heir of England 1 Was this easy ? 

]\fay this be wash’d in Lethe, and forgotten ? 

Chief -Justice. I then did use th^ person of your father; 
The image of his power lay then in me; 

And, in the administration of his law, 

Whiles I was busy for the commonwealth, 

Your highness pleased to forget my plaOe, 

The majesty and power of law and justice, 

The image of the king whom I presented, 

And struck me in my very seat of judgment, 80 

Whereon, as an offender to your father, 

I gave bold w^ay to my authority 

And did commit you. If the deed were ill, 

Be you contented, wearing now the garland, 



To have a son set your decrees at nought, 

To pluck down justice from your awful bench, 

To trip the course of law, and blunt the sword 
That guards the peace and safety of your person; 

Nay, more, to spurn at your most royal image 

And mock your workings in a second body. 90 

Question your royal thoughts, make the case yours; 

Be now the father and propose a son. 

Hear your own dignity so much profan’d, 

See your mosttdreadful laws so loosely slighted, 

Behold yourself so by a son disdain’d ; 

And then imagine me taking your part, 

And in your power soft silencing your son. 

After this cold considerance, sentence me ; 

And, as you are a king, speak in your state 

What I have done that misbecame my place, 100 

My person, or my liege’s sovereignty. 

King You are right, justice, and you weigh this well, 
Therefore still bear the balance and the sword ; 

And I do wish your honours may increase, 

Till you do live to see a son of mine 
Offend you and obey you, as I did 
So shall I live to speak my father’s words 
‘Happy am I, that have a man so bold, 

That dares do justice on my proper son; 

And not less happy, having such a son, no 

That would deliver up his greatness so 

Into the hands of justice.’ You did commit me . 

For which, I do commit into your hand 

Th’ unstained sword that you have us’d to bear ; 

With this remembrance, — that you use the same 
With the like bold, just, and impartial spirit 
As you have done ’gainst me. There is my hand. 

You shall be as a father to my youth ; 

My voice shall sound as you do prompt mine ear, 



And I will stoop and humble my intents 120 

To your well-practis’d wise directions — 

And, princes all, believe me, I beseech you , 

My father is gone wild into his grave^ 

For in his tomb lie my affections. 

And with his spirit sadly I survive, 

To mock the expectation of the world, 

To frustrate prophecies and to raze out 

Rotten opinion, who hath writ me down 

After my seeming. The tide of blood in me 

Hath proudly flow’d in vanity till now , *30 

Now doth it turn and ebb back to the sea, 

WlVere it shall mingle with the state of floods 
And flow henceforth in formal majest}?. 

Now call we our high court of parliament, 

And let us choose such limbs of noble counsel, 

That the great body of our state may go 
In equal rank with the best govern’d nation ; 

That war, or peace, or both at once, may be 
As things acquainted and familiar to us, — 

In which you, father, shall have foremost hand — *40 

Our coronation done, we will accite, 

As I before remembei ’d, all our state ^ 

And, God consigning to my good intents. 

No prince nor peer shall have just cause to say, 

God shoiten Harry’s happy life one day ^ \Exeu?it 

Scene III. Gloucestershire Shallow* s Orchard 
Enter Falstaff, Shallow, Silence, Davy, Bardolph, and 
the Page. 

Shallow Nay, you shall see my orchard, where, in an ar- 
bour, we will eat a last yeai’s pippin of my own graffing, with 
a dish of caraways, and so forth, — come, cousin Silence; — 
and then to bed 



Falstaff Fore God, you have heie a goodly dwelling and 
a rich. 

, Shallow fiairen, bairen, barren \ beggars all, beggars all, 
Sir John- marry, good air. — Spiead, Davy, spiead, Davy, 
well said, Davy 9 

Falstaff This Davy serves you for good uses ; he is your 
serving-man and your husband. 

Shallow. A good varlet, a good varlet, a very good varlet, 
Sir John — by the mass, I have drunk too much sack at sup- 
per ’ — a good varlet — Now sit down, now sit down. — Come, 

Silence. Ah, sirrah f quoth-a, we shall [52/?^^] 

Do nothing but eat^ and make good cheer^ 

And praise God for the merry year, 

When flesh is cheap and females dear, 

And lusty lads roam here and there ao 

So merrily, 

And ever among so merrily, 

Falstaff. There’s a merry heart! — Good Master Silence, 
1 ’ll give you a health for that anon. 

Shallow. Give Master Bardolph some wine, Davy 

Davy. Sweet sir, sit ; I ’ll be with you anon ; most sweet 
sir, sit. — Master page, good master page, si t. Proface 1 What 
you want in meat, we ’ll have in drink. But you must bear, 
the heart ’s all \Exit. 

Shallow. Be meriy, Master Bardolph ; — and, my little sol- 
dier there, be merry, 31 

Silence. [Sings] 

Be merry, he merry, my wife has all; 

For women are sinews, both short and tall: 
is merry in hall when beards wag all. 

And welcome merry Shrovedide. 

Be merry, he merry. 

Falstaff. I did not think Master Silence had been a man 
of this mettle. 


Silence Who, I? I have been merry twice and once ere 

now. 40 

Re-enter Davy. 

Davy, There ’s a dish of leather-coats for you. 

[To Bardolph, 

Shallow, Davy • 

Davy, Your worship » — I ’ll be with you straight [to Bar- 
^dolph \ — A cup of wine, sir ? 

Silence, [Sings] 

A cup of wine that V brisk and flne^ 

And drink unto the lenian mine, 

And a merry heart lives long a 

Falstaff, Well said, Master Silence. 

Silence An we shall be merry, now comes m the sweet 
o’ the night. 5° 

Falstaff, Health and long life to you, Master Silence. 

Silence, [Sings] 

Fill the cupf and let it come, 

I ’// pledge you a mile to the bottom. 

Shallow Honest Bai dolph, welcome , if thouwantest any 
thing, and will not call, beshrew thy heart. — Welcome, my little 
tiny thief [to the Page\^ and welcome indeed too — I ’ll drink 
to Master Bardolph, and to all the cavaleros about London 

Davy, I hope to see London once ere I die. 

- Bardolph An I might see 3^ou there, Davy, — S9 

Shallow By the mass, you ’ll crack a quart together, ha ! 
will you not, Master Bardolph ? 

Bardolph Yea, sir, in a pottle-pot 

Shallow By God’s liggens, I thank thee — ^l"he knave wi!l 
stick by thee, I can assure thee that. A’ will not out, he is 
true bred 

Bardolph And I ’ll stick by him, sir. 

Shallo 7 CK Why, there spoke a king Lack nothing , be 
merry. — [Rnocking withinl\ Look who ’s at door there — Ho * 
who knocks ? \Fxit Davy, 



Falstaff, Why, now 5^ou have done me right 70 

\To Silence^ seeing him take off a lumper. 
Silence, [Sings] Do me rights 

And dub me knight, 


Is ’t not so ^ 

Falstaff T is so 

Silence, Is *t so ^ Why then, say an old man can do some- 

Re-enter Davy 

Davy, An ’t please ^our woiship, there ’s one Pistol come 
from the court with news 

Falstaff, Fiom the couit^ let him come in. — So 

Enter Pistol 

How now, Pistol f 
Pistol Sir John, God save you f 
Falstaff What wind blew you hither, Pistol ? 

Pistol Not the ill wind which blows no man to good 
Sweet knight, thou art now one of the greatest men in this 

Silence, By 'r lady, I think a’ be, but goodman Puff of 

Pistol Puffi 

Puff in thy teeth, most recreant cowai d base 1— « 9® 

Sir John, I am thy Pistol and thy fnend, 

And helter-skelter have I rode to thee, 

And tidings do I bring, and lucky joys, 

And golden times, and happy news of price. 

Falstaff I pray thee now, deliver them like a man of this 

Pistol A foutra for the world and worldlings base 1 
I speak of Africa and golden joys. 

Falstaff, O base Assyrian knight, what is thy news? 

Let King Cophetua know the tiuth thereof. 





Silence. [Sings] And Robin Hood, Scailet^ and yohn 
Pistol Shall dunghill curs confiont the Helicons? 

And shall good news be baffled ? 

Then, Pistol, la} thy head in Furies’ lap 

Silence Honest gentleman, I know not your breeding 
Pistol Why then, lament theiefore. 

Shallow Give me pardon, sir —If, sii, you come with news 
fiom the court, I take it there ’s but two ways,— either to 
utter them, or to conceal them I am, sir, under the king in 
some authority. 

Pistol Under which king, Bezonian > speak, or die 
Shallow Under King Harry. 

Harry the Fouith? or Fifth? 

Shallow Harry the Fourth 

Pistol. A foutra for thine office ! — 

Sir John, thy tender lambkin now is king, 

Harry the Fifth ’s the man I speak the truth, 

When Pistol lies, do this, and fig me, like 
The bragging Spaniard. 

Falstaff. What, is the old king dead ^ 

Pistol As nail in door; the things I speak are just. hq 
Falstaff. Away, Bardolph ^ saddle my horse — Master 
Robert Shallow, choose what office thou wilt in the land, ’t is 
thine. — Pistol, I will double-charge thee with dignities. 

Bardolph O joyful day * — I would not take a knighthood 
for my fortune. 

Pistol What * I do biing good news? 

Falsiaff Carry Master Silence to bed —Master Shallow, 
my Lord Shallow,— be what thou wilt, I am fortune’s stew- 
ard— get on thy boots , we ’ll ride all night.— O sweet Pistol » 
—Away, Bardolph Bardolph ] Come, Pistol, utter 

more to me, and withal devise something to do thyself good 
Boot, boot, Master Shallow, I know the young king is sick 
for me. Let us take any man’s horses, the laws of England 
are at my commandment. Blessed are they that have been 


13 ^ 

Pistol Let vultures vile seize on Ins lungs also > 

‘Where is the life that late I led say they . 

Why, here it is , welcome these pleasant days > [Exeunt 

Scene IV London A Street 
Enter Beadles, dragging m Hostess Quickly and Doll 

Hostess No, thou arrant knave , I would to God that I 
might die, that I might have thee hanged . thou hast drawn 
my shoulder out of joint. 

I Beadle. The constables have delivered her over to me, 
and she shall have whipping-cheer enough, I warrant her: 
there hath been a man or two lately killed about her 

Doll Nut-hook, nut-hook, you he Come on, thou damned 
tripe- visaged rascal, thou paper-faced villain. 

Hostess. O the Lord, that Sir John were come’ he would 
make this a bloody day to somebody lo 

I Beadle Come, I charge you both go with me , for the 
man is dead that you and Pistol beat amongst you. 

Doll. I ’ll tell you what, you thin man in a censer, I will 
have you as soundly swinged for this,^ — you blue-bottle rogue, 
you filthy famished coi rectioner, if you be not swinged, I ’ll 
forswear half-kiitles. 

I Beadle. Come, come, you she kmght-errant, come 
Hostess. O God, that right should thus overcome might ! 
Well, of sufferance comes ease 

Doll Come, \ou rogue, come; bung me to a justice. 20 
Hostess. Ay, come, you starved blood-hound 
Doll Goodman death, goodman bones ’ 

Hostess. Thou atomy, thou ’ 

Doll Come, you thin thing , come, you rascal. 

I Beadle. Veiy well [Exeunt 



Scene V A Public Place ?iear Westminster Abbey, 
Enter two Giooms, strewing rushes, 

1 Gloom. More rushes, more rushes. 

2 Groom The trumpets have sounded twice. 

I Groom. T will be two o’clock ere they come from the 
coionation. Dispatch, dispatch. {Exeunt 

Enter Falstaff, Shallow, Pistol, Bardolph, and Page. 

Falstaff Stand here by me, Master Robert Shallow, I 
will make the king do you grace I will leer upon him as a’ 
comes by, and do but mark the countenance that he will 
give me. 

Pistol. God bless thy lungs, good knight ! 9 

Falstaff Come here, Pistol, stand behind me — O, if I 
had had time to have made new liveiies, I would have be- 
stowed the thousand pound I borrow^ed of you. But ’t is no 
matter j this poor show doth better . this cloth infer the zeal 
I had to see him. 

Shallow. It doth so. 

Falstaff. It shows my earnestness of affection, — 

Shallow. It doth so. 

Falstaff. My devotion, — 

Shallow. It doth, it doth, it doth. 19 

Falstaff. As it were, to ride day and night , and not to 
deliberate, not to remember, not to have patience to shift 
me, — 

Shallow. It is best, certain. 

Falstaff. But to stand stained with tra\^el, and sweating 
with desire to see him , thinking of nothing else, putting all 
affairs else in oblivion, as if theie were nothing else to be 
done but to see him. 

Pistol. ’T is semper idem, for obsque hoc nibil est ’t is 
all in every part 



Shallow T is so, indeed 30 

Pistol My knight, I will inflame thy noble liver, 

And make thee rage. 

Thy Doll, and Helen of thy noble thoughts, 

Is in base durance and contagious prison , 

Hal’d thither 

. By most mechanical and dirty hand — 

Rouse up revenge from ebon den with fell Alecto’s snake. 
For Doll is in. Pistol speaks nought but truth, 

Falstaff, I will deliver her, 39 

\Shouts within^ and the trutnpets sound. 
Pistol Theie roar’d the sea, and trumpet-clangor sounds. 

Pnter the King and his train^ the Lord Chief -Justice 
among them, 

Falsiaff God save thy grace, King Hal 1 my royal Hal * 
Pistol, The heavens thee guard and keep, most royal imp 
of fame I 

Falsiaff, God save thee, my sweet boy! 

King, My lord chief-justice, speak to that vain man. 

Chief -yustice. Have you your wits? know you what ’t is 
you speak ? 

Falsiaff, My king ^ my Jove ^ I speak to thee, my heart I 
King, I know thee not, old man : fall to thy prayers ; 

How ill white hairs become a fool and jester ! 

I have long dream’d of such a kind of man, 50 

So surfeit-swell’d, so old, and so profane , 

But, being awak’d, I do despise my dream. 

Make less thy body hence, and more thy gi ace ; 

Leave gormandizing \ know the grave doth gape 
For thee thrice wider than for other men. 

Reply not to me with a fool-born jest * 

Presume not that I am the thing I was ; 

For God doth know, so shall the woild perceive, 

That I have turn’d at 4 ay my former self ; 


So will I those that kept me company 6 u 

When thou dost heai 1 am as I have been, 

Approach me, and thou shalt be as thou wast, 

The tutoi and the feeder of my riots , 

Till then, I banish thee, on pain of death, 

As I have done the rest of my misleaders, 

Not to come near our person by ten mile. 

For competence of life I will allow you, 

That lack of means enforce you not to evil; 

And, as we hear you do refoim youiselves, 

We will, according to your stiengths and qualities, 

Give you advancement — Be it your charge, my loid, 

To see perform’d the tenour of our word — 

Set on. \Exeimt Xmg, 

Falstaff Master Shallow, I owe you a thousand pound 
Shallow Yea, mairy, Sir John , which I beseech you to let 
me have home with me 

Falstaff That can hardly be, Master Shallow Do not 
you grieve at this, I shall be sent for in private to him. 
Look you, he must seem thus to the world . fear not your ad- 
vancements; I will be the man yet that shall make you great 
Shallow, 1 cannot well perceive how, unless you should 
give me your doublet and stuff me out with straw I beseech 
you, good Sir John, let me have five hundred of my thousand. 

Falstaff Sir, I will be as good as my word , this that you 
heard was but a colour ss 

Shallow, A colour that I fear you wull die in, Sir John 
Falstaff. Fear no colours, go with me to dinner —Come, 
Lieutenant Pistol , — come, Bardolph.— I shall be sent for 
soon at night 

Re-enter Prince John, the Lord Chief -Justice, Officers 
with them 

Chief-Justice, Go carry Sir John Falstaff to the Fleet. 90 
Take all his company along with him. 



Falstaff My loid, my lord,— 

Chief -yustice I cannot now speak, I will hear you soon. 
Take them away. 

Pistol Si fortuna me tormento, spera me contento 

\Exeimt all but Prince John and the Chief -Just ice 

Lancaster. I like this fair proceeding of the king’s. 

He hath intent his wonted followers 
Shall all be very well provided for , 

But all aie banish'd till their conversations 

Appear more wise and modest to the woi Id. 100 

Chief -Justice And so they are 

Lancaster. The king hath call'd his pailiament, my lord 

Chief -Justice He hath 

Lancaster. I will lay odds, that, ere this year expire, 

We bear our civil swoids and native fire 
As far as France 1 heard a bird so sing, 

Whose music, to my thinking, pleas’d the king 

Come, will you hence ? {Exeunt 


Spoken by a Dancer. 

First my fear, then my couitesy, last my speech l^ly 
fear is your displeasure, my courtesy my duty, and my 
speech to beg your* pai dons. If you look for a good speech 
now, you undo me ^ for what I have to say is of mine own 
making, and what indeed I should say will, I doubt, prove 
mine own mairing But to the purpose, and so to the ven- 
ture Be It known to you, as it is very well, I was lately 
here in the end of a displeasing play, to pray your patience 
for it and to promise you a better. I meant indeed to pay 
you with this ; which, if like an ill venture it come unluckily 
home, I break, and you, my gentle creditors, lose. Here I 
promised you I would be, and here I commit my body to 
your mercies , bate me some and I will pay you some, and, 
as most debtors do, promise you infinitely. 


If my tongue cannot entreat you to acquit me, will you 
command me to use my legs ? and yet that were but light 
payment, to dance out of your debt But a good conscience 
will make any possible satisfaction, and so would I All the 
gentlewomen here have forgiven me , if the gentlemen will 
not, then the gentlemen do not agree with the gentlewomen, 
which was never seen before in such an assembly. 

One word more, I beseech you If you be not too much 
cloyed with fat meat, our humble author will continue the 
story, with Sir John in it, and make you meiry with fair Kath- 
erine of France where, for any thing I know, FalstafF shall 
die of a sweat, unless already a’ be killed with your hard 
opinions ; for Oldcastle died a martyr, and this is not the 
man. My tongue is weary, w^hen my legs are too, I will bid 
you good night • and so kneel down before you ; but, indeed, 
to pray for the queen. 



Abbott (or Gr ), Abbott’s SJiaKespearuin Grammar (third edition) 

A S , Anglo-Saxon 

A V , Authonzed Version of the Bible (i6ri) 

B and F , Beaumont and Fletcher 
B J , Ben Jonsou 

Camb ed , “ Cambridge edition” of Shakespeare^ edited bv Clark and Wright 
Cf {confer), compare 

Clarke, “ Cassell’s Illustrated Shakespeare,” edited by Charles and IMai^ Cowden 
Clarke (London, n d ) 

Coll , Collier (second edition; 

Coll. MS , Manuscript Collections of Second Folio, edited by Collier. 

B , Dyce (second edition) 

H , Hudson (first edition) 

Halhwell, J O Hallivi ell (folio ed of Shakespeare) 

Id {tdem), the same 

J H , J Hunter’s ed of 2 Henry JV (London, 1871) 

K , Knight (second eduion) 

Nares, Glossary, edited by Halliwell and Wright (London, 1859) 

Prol , Prorogue 
S , Shakespeare 

Schmidt, A Schmidt’s Shakespeare- Lexicon (Berlin, 1874) 

Sr , Singer 
St , Staunton 
Theo , Theobald 
V , Verplanck 

Vaughan, H H Vaughan’s Nbuo Readings and New Rendermgs of Shakespeare's 
Tragedies (London, 1878) 

W , R Grant White 

Wsdker, Wm Sidney Walkei’s Critical Examination of the Text of Shakespeare 
(London, iSdo) 

Warb , Warburton 

Wb , Webster’s Dictionary (revised quarto edition of 1879) 

Wore , Worcester’s Dictionaiy (quarto edition) 

The abbreviations of the names of Shakespeare’s Plays will be readily understood , as 
T N foi Twelfth Night, Cor for Coriolamis, 3 Hen, VI for The Third Part of Ki 7 ig 
Henry the Sixth, etc P P refers to The Passionate Pilgrim, V and A to Vemis 
and A donis ^ L^C to LovePs Complaint , and Soiin to the Sonnets 

When the abbreviation of the name of a play is followed by a reference to page, 
Rolfe’s edition of the play is meant 

The numbers of the lines (except for 2 Henry IV,) are those of the “ Globe ” ed or 
of the “Acme” reprint of that ed. 



The following extracts from Holinshed’s History of England (which 
we give as printed by J. Hunter) compiise all the passages of any im- 
portance ilUistraiing the play : 

“ The king was minded to have gone into Wales against the Welsh reb- 
els, that, under their chieftain Owen Glendower, ceased not to do much 
mischief still against the English subjects. But at the same time, to his 
fuither disquieting, theie was a conspiracy put in practice against him at 
home by the earl of Noithumbeiland, who had conspired with Richard 
Scroope, aichbishop of Yoik, Thomas Mowbiay, earl marshall, son to 
Thomas, duke of Norfolk, who for the quarrel betwixt him and King 
Heniy had been banished, the lords Hastings, Fauconbndge, Bardolfe, 
and dfiverse others It was appointed that they should meet altogether 
with their whole power upon YorkswoJd, at a day assigned, and that the 
earl of Northumberland should be chieftain, promising to bung with him 
a great number of Scots. The aichbishop, accompanied with the earl 
marshall, devised certain articles of such matters as it was supposed that, 



not only the commonalty of the realm, but also the nobility, found them- 
selves grieved with which ai tides they showed fiist unto such of their 
adheients as weie neai about them, and after sent them abroad to their 
fi lends fuither off, assuring them that, for redress of such oppressions, 
they would shed the last diop of blood in their bodies, if need weie 

“ The archbishop, not meaning to stay aftei he saw himself accompanied 
with a great number of men, that came flocking to York to take his pai t 
in this quairel, foithwith discoveied his enterprise, causing the articles 
aforesaid to be set up in the public streets of the city of York, and upon 
the gates of the monasteries, that each man might understand the cause 
that moved him to rise in arms against the king, the reforming whereof 
did not yet appertain unto him Hei eupon knights, esquii es, gentlemen, 
yeomen, and other of the commons, as well of the city, towns, and coun- 
tries about, being allured either for desire of change, or else for desire to 
see a reformation in such things as were mentioned in the ai tides, as- 
sembled togethei m gieat numbers , and the archbishop coming forth 
amongst them, clad in armour, encouiaged, exhorted, and piicked them 
forth to take the enterprise m hand, and manfully to continue in then be- 
gun puipose , promising forgiveness of sms to all them whose hap it was 
to die m the quairel j and thus, not only all the citizens of York, but all 
other in the countries about that were able to bear weapon, came to the 
archbishop and the earl marshall. Indeed, the respect that men had to 
the archbishop caused them to like the better of the cause, since the 
gravity of his age, his integrity of life, and incomparable learning, with 
the reverend aspect of his amiable personage, moved all men to have 
him in no small estimation. 

“The king, advertised of these matters, meaning to prevent them, left 
his journey into Wales, and marched with all speed towards the north 
paits. Also Rafe Nevill, earl of Westmoreland, that was not far off, to- 
gether with the lord John of Lancaster, the king’s son, being informed of 
this rebellious attempt, assembled together such power as they might 
make, and together with those which weie appointed to attend on the 
said lord John, to defend the borders against the Scots, as the lord Hen- 
ry Fitzhugh, the lord Rafe Rvers, the lord Robert Umfrevill, and others, 
made forward against the rebels, and coming into a plain within the for- 
est of Gal tree, caused their standards to be pitched down m like sort as 
the archbishop had pitched his over against them, being far stronger in 
number of people than the other, for (as some write) there were of the 
rebels at the least twenty thousand men 

“ When the earl of Westmoreland perceived the force of the adversa- 
ries, and that they lay still and attempted not to come forward upon him, 
he subtilly devised how to quail their puipose , and foithwith despatched 
messengers unto the archbishop, to understand the cause as it were of that 
gieat assembly, and for what cause (contrary to the king’s peace) they 
came so in armour The aichbishop answered, that he took nothing in 
hand against the king’s peace, but that whatsoei er he did tended rather 
to advance the peace and quiet of the commonwealth than otheiwise j 
and where he and his company iveie in arms, it was for fear of the king, 
to whom he could have no free access, by leason of such a multitude of 



flatteiers as were about him, and theiefoie he maintained that his pur- 
pose to be good and profitable, as well for the king himself as for the 
realm, if men weie willing to understand a tiuth, and herewith he 
showed forth a scroll, in which the ai tides were wiitten wheieof before 
ye have heaid. 

“The messengeis returning to the earl of Westmoreland, showed him 
what they had heard and brought fiom the aichbishop. When he had 
read the articles, he showed m word and countenance outwardly that he 
liked of the archbishop’s holy and virtuous intent and purpose, promising 
that he and his would prosecute the same in assisting the archbishop, 
who rejoicing hereat gave credit to the earl, and persuaded the earl mar- 
shall {against his will as it were) to go with him to a place appointed for 
them to commune together. Here when they were met with like num- 
ber on either part, the articles iveie read over, and without any moie ado 
the earl of Westmoreland and those that weie with him, agreed to do 
their best to see that a reformation might be had, according to the same. 

“The earl of Westmoreland using more policy than the rest. Well 
(said he) then our ti avail is come to the wishea end and where our 
people have been long in armour, let them depart home to thfeir wonted 
trades and occupations . in the meantime let us drink togetbei in sign of 
agreement, that the people on both sides may see it, and know that it is 
tiue, that we be light at point. They had no sooner shaken hands to- 
gether, but that a knight was sent straightw^ays from the archbishop, to 
bring word to the people that there was peace concluded, commanding 
each man to lay aside his arms, and to resort home to their houses The 
people beholding such tokens of peace, as shaking of hands and drinking 
togethei of the loids m loving manner, they being already wearied with 
the unaccustomed travail of war, brake up their field and leturned home- 
wards : but in the meantime, whilst the people of the aichbishop’s side 
withdrew away, the number of the contrary part increased, according to 
order given by the eail of Westmoreland, and jet the archbishop pei- 
ceived not that he was deceived, until the eail of Westmoreland arrested 
both him and the earl mai shall with diverse other. Thus saith Walsing- 
ham. But others write somewhat otherwise of, this matter, affirming that 
the earl of Westraoi eland indeed, and the loid Rafe Evers, procured the 
archbishop and the earl marshall to come to a communication with them, 
upon a ground just in the midway betwixt both the armies, where the earl 
of Westmoreland in talk declared to them how perilous an enterprise 
they had taken in hand, so as to raise the people, and to move war against 
the king ; advising them therefore to submit themselves without further 
delay unto the king’s mei cy, and his son the lord John, who was present 
there m the field with banneis spiead, ready to try the matter by dint of 
sword, if they refused this counsel ; and therefore he willed them to re- 
member themselves well . and if they would not yield and crave the 
king’s pardon, he bade them to do their best to defend themselves. 

“ Hereupon as well the archbishop as the earl marshall submitted them- 
selves unto the king, and to his son the lord John that was there present, 
and returned not , to their army Whereupon their tioops scaled and fled 
their ways ; but being pursued, many were taken, many slam, and many 



spoiled of that that they had about them, and so permitted to go their 
ways. Howsoevei the matter was handled, true it is that the archbishop 
and the earl maishall were brought to Pomfiet to the king, who in this 
meanwhile was advanced thither with his power, and fiom thence he 
went to York, whither the piisoners weie also bi ought, and there behead- 
ed the morrow after Whitsunday, in a place without the city . that is to 
understand, the archbishop himself, the earl maishall, sir John Lampley, 
and sii Robeit Plumpton Unto all which persons though indemnity 
were pi omised, yet was the same to none of them at any hand performed 

“ Aftei the king, accordingly as seemed to him good, had ransomed and 
punished by grievous fines the citizens of York (which had boine armoui 
on their archbishop’s side against him), he depaited fiom York, with an 
army of thirty and seven thousand fighting men, furnished with all pio- 
vision necessary, marching northwards against the eail of Northumber- 
land At his coming to Duiham, the loid Hastings, the lord Faiicon- 
bridge, sii John Collevill of the Dale, and sir John Giiffith, being con- 
victed of the conspiiacy, weie theie beheaded The eail of Noithiiinber- 
land, hearing that his counsel was betiayed and his coniedei ates brought 
to confusion, thiough too much haste of the aichbishop of York, with 
three hundred hoise got him to Beiwick The king coming forwaid 
quickly, wan the castle of Warkwoith Whereupon the eail of Nor- 
mumberland, not thinking himself m surety at Berwick, fled with the 
lord Bardolfe into Scotland, where they weie leceived of David, lord 

“ The eail of Northumbei land and the loid Bardolfe, after they had been 
in Wales, in France, and Flanders, to pin chase aid against King Henry, 
were returned back into Scotland, and had remained theie now foi the 
space of a whole year, and, as their evil fortune would, whilst the king 
held a council of the nobility at London, the said earl ofNoithumberland 
and lord Bardolfe m a dismal hour, with a great power of Scots, returned 
into England, recovering diverse of the eail’s castles and signiories , for 
the people in great numbeis lesorted unto them The king, advertised 
hereof, caused a great army to be assembled, and came forward with the 
same towaids his enemies, but ere the king came to Nottingham, sir 
Thomas, or (as other copies have) Rafe Rokesby, sheiiff of Yorkshire, 
assembled the forces of the country to resist the earl and his power. 

“ Theie was a sore encounter and cruel conflict betwixt the parties, but 
in the end the victory fell to the sheriff The lord Baidolfe was taken, 
but sore wounded, so that he shortly after died of his hurts. As for the 
earl of Noithiimberland, he was slam outnght 

“ The loid Heniy, prince of Wales, eldest son to King Henry, got knowl- 
edge that certain of his fathei’s servants were busy to give intimations 
against him, wheieby discoid might arise betwixt him and his father , for 
they put into the king’s head, not only what evil rule (according to the 
course of youth) the prince kept, to the offence of many, but also what 
great resoit of people came to his house, so that the couit was nothing 
fuimshed with such a train as daily followed the prince These tales 
brought no small suspicion into the king’s head, leut his son would pre- 
sume to usurp the crown, he being yet alive ; through which suspicious 



jealousy, it was perceived that he favouied not his son as in times past 
he had done The prince, sore offended with such peisons as by slandei- 
ous repoits sought, not only to spot his good name abioad in the realm, 
but to sow discord also betwixt him and his father, wrote his letters into 
every part of the realm, to reprove all such slanderous devices of those 
that sought his disci edit And to clear himself the bettei, that the world 
might undei stand what wiong he had to be slandered in such wise, about 
the feast of Peter and Paul, to wit, the nme-and-twentieth day of June, he 
came to the court, with such a number of noblemen and othei his friends 
that wished him well, as the like tiain had been seldom seen lepairing to 
the court at any one time in those days. The couit was then at West- 
minster, wheie he being enteied into the hall, not one of his company 
duist once advance himself further than the hie in the same hall, not- 
withstanding they were earnestly requested by the loids to come higher; 
but they, 1 egarding what they had in commandment of the prince, would 
not presume to do in any thing contiary theieunto He himself, only ac- 
companied with those of the king’s house, was stiaight admitted to the 
piesence of the king his father, who being at that time grievously dis- 
eased, yet caused himself in his chair to be borne into his privy chambei, 
where, in the presence of three 01 four peisons in whom he had most 
confidence, he commanded the prince to show what he had to say con- 
cerning the cause of his coming 

“ The prince kneeling down before his father, said Most ledoubted and 
sovereign lord and fathei , I am at this time come to your presence as 
youi liege man, and as youi natuia! son, m all things to be at your com- 
mandment. And where I understand you have in suspicion my demean- 
our against your grace, you know very well, that if I knew any man with- 
in this realm of whom you should stand in fear, my duty were to punish 
that peison, thereby to remove that gnef fiom your heart Then how 
much more ought I to suffer death, to ease youi grace of that gnef which 
you have of me, being your natuial son and liege man , and to that end I 
liave this day made myself ready by confession and receiving the sacia- 
ment And therefore I beseech you, most redoubted lord and deal fa- 
ther, for the honour of God, to ease your heait of all such suspicion as 
you have of me, and to despatch me here before your knees with this 
same dagger (and withal he delivered unto the king his dagger m all 
humble reverence, adding further, that his life was not so dear to him that 
he wished to live one day with his displeasure) , and therefoie, in thus 
ridding me out of life, and youi self fiom all suspicion, heie m presence 
of these lords, and before God at the day of the geneial judgment, I faith- 
fully protest clearly to forgive you. 

“ The king, moved herewith," cast from him the dagger, and, embracing 
the prince, kissed him, and with shedding teais confessed, that indeed he 
had him pai tly m suspicion, though now (as he perceived) not with just 
cause , and theiefore from thenceforth no misieport should cause him to 
have him in mistiust , and this he piomised of his honour 

“Thus weie the father and the son reconciled, betwixt whom the said 
pickthanks had sown di^ ision, insomuch that the son, upon a vehement 
conceit of unkindness sprung in the father was in the way to be worn out 



of favour, which was the more likely to come to p^ss, by their informa- 
tions that privily charged him with not, and other uncivil demeanour un- 
seemly for a prince Indeed, he was youthfully given, giown to audacity, 
and had chosen him companions agieeable to his age, with whom he spent 
the time in such recieations, exercises, and delights as he fancied. But 
yet It should seem (by the report of some wi iters) that his behaviour was 
not offensive, or at least tending to the damage of anybody , sith he had 
a care to avoid doing of wrong, and to tender his affections within the 
tract of virtue, wheieby he opened unto himself a ready passage of good 
liking among the prudent sort, and was beloved of such as could discern 
his disposition, which was m no degree so excessive, as that he deserved 
in such vehement mannei to be suspected 

In this fouiteenth and last year of King Heniy’s reign, a council W'as 
holden in the Whitefriais m London, at the which, among othei things, 
order was taken for ships and gallies to be builded and made ready, and 
all other things necessary to be provided, for a voyage which he meant 
to make into the holy land, theie to recover the city of Jeiusalem fiom 
the infidels. For it grieved him to consider the gieat malice of Chiistian 
princes that were bent upon a mischievous purpose to destioy one an- 
other, to the peril of then own souls, rather than to make war against the 
enemies of the Christian faith, as in conscience (it seemed to him) they 
were bound He held his Christmas this year at Eltham, being soie 
vexed with sickness, so that it w'as thought sometime that be had been 
dead; notwithstanding it pleased God that he somewhat lecovered his 
stiength again, and so passed that Christmas with as much joy as he 

“The morrow after Candlemas day began a pailiament which he had 
called at London, but he departed this life befoie the same parliament 
was ended , for now that his provisions were ready, and that he was fur- 
nished with sufficient tieasure, soldiers, captains, victuals, munitions, tall 
ships, strong gallies, and all things necessary for such a royal joui ney as 
he pretended to take into the holy land, he was eftsoons taken with a sore 
sickness, which was not a leprosy, stricken by the hand of God (saith 
Maister Hall), as foolish friars imagined, but a very apoplexy. During 
this his last sickness he caused his crown (as some write) to be set on a 
pillow at his bed’s head, and suddenly his pangs so sore troubled him, 
that he lay as though all his vital spirits had been from him departed 
Such as were about him, thinking verily that he had been departed, cov- 
ered his face with a linen cloth. The piince his son, being hereof advei- 
tised, entered into the chamber, took away the crown, and depai ted The 
father, being suddenly revived out of that tiance, quickly peiceived the 
lack of his crown , and, having knowledge that the prince his son bad 
taken it away, caused him to come before his presence, requiring of him 
what he meant so to misuse himself. The prince with a good audacity 
answered • Sir, to mine and all men’s judgments, you seemed dead in this 
world , wherefore, I, as your next hen apparent, took that as mine own, 
and not as yours Well, fan son (said the king with a great sigh), what 
right I had to it, God knoweth Well (said the prince), if you die king, 
X will have the garland, and trust to keep it with the sword against all 



mine enemies, as you have done Then, said the king, I commit all fo 
God, and lemember you do well With that he turned himself in his 
bed, and shoitly attei depaited to God, in a chambei of the abbot’b of 
AVe&trainster called Jeiubalem, the twentieth day of Maich, in the yeai 
1413, in the year of his age 46, when he had reigned thiitcen \eais hve 
months and odd days 

“ We find that he was taken wnth his last sickness while he was making 
his prayeis at saint Edwaid’s shnne, theie as it w^eie to take his leave 
and so "to pioceed foith on his journey He was so suddenly and griev- 
ously taken, that sulIi as w'ere about him feaied lest he would have died 
piesently. Wherefoie, to lelieve him (if it were possible), thej bare him 
unto a chamber that was ne\t at hand belonging to the abbot of West- 
minstei, where they laid him on a pallet befoie the fire, and used all rem- 
edies to revive hina At length he lecoveied his speech and understand- 
ing, and peiceiving himself in a stiange place which he knew not, he 
willed to know if the chamber had any paiticulai name , whereunto an- 
swer was made that it was Jeiusalem Then, said the king, lauds be 
given to the Father of heaven , foi now I know that I shall die heie in 
this chamber, accoidmg to the piophec> otme declaied, that I should de- 
jiait this life in Jeiusalem 

“ Henry, pi nice of Wales, son and hen to King Heniy the Fouith, born 
111 Wales, at Monmouth on the nver of Wye, after his father was depait- 
ed took upon him the regiment of this realm of England, the twentieth of 
INIaich, 1413, the moiiow after pioclaimed king by the name of Henr> 
the Fifth This king even at first appointing with himself to show that 
in his peison piincely honouis should change public manners, he deter- 
mined to put on him the shape of a new man. For wheieas afoietime he 
had made himself a companion unto misruly mates of dissolute oidei and 
life, he now banished them all fiom his presence (but not unrewarded, or 
else unprefeired), inhibiting them, upon a great pain, not once to ap- 
proach, lodge, or sojourn within ten miles of his court or presence, and 
in their places he chose men of gravity, wit, and high policy, bj whose 
wise counsel he might at all times lule to his honour and dignity, call- 
ing to mind how once, to high offence of the king his father, he had with 
his fist stricken the chief justice, for sending one of his minions (upon 
desert) to prison, when the justice stouth" commanded himself also 
straight to ward, and he (then prince) obeyed The king after expelled 
him out of his pi ivy council, banished him the court, and made the duke 
of Clarence, his younger bi other, president of council in his stead.” 


In the 1st folio the last scene of the play ends on p 100, with ** FINIS ” 
appended and a “ tail-piece ” which fills out the page. The Eptlo^te oc- 
cupies the next page, which is not numbered, and on the back of this we 
find the following list of chaiacteis , 


against King JIe7irte the 




Rvmovr the Presenter 
King He7iry the Fouith 

Prince afterwards Clowned King Henne the Fift 

i to ^‘»ry the Fomth, & biethren to 

Clarence. ) TIenry s 


The Arch Byshop of Yoike. 


Hastings ( Opposites 

Lord Bardolfe. j Fouith. 




Warwicke Pomtz. 

Westmorland. F'alstaffe. 

Surrey. Of the Kings Baidolphe. [ Irregular 

Govpre. Partie Pistoll [ Humoiists 

Harecourt. Peto. 

Lord Chiefe lustice Page. 

Shallow ( Both Country 
Silence. ) Justices. 

Dauie, Seiuant to Shallow 
Phang, and Snare, 2 Seiieants Drawers 

Mouldie. ] Beadles. 

Shadow, / Gioomes 

Wart, > Country Soldiers 
F'eeble. ( 

BuUcalfe. j 

Northumberlands Wife. 
Percies Widdow 
Hostesse Quickly 
Doll Teare-sheete. 




In the folio this is headed Actus Prtmus Scesm Pnma Indvc- 
TioN.” In the quaito there is no division into acts and scenes 

I Enter Rumour^ painted full of tongues This is according to the 
quarto , the folio has simply “ Enter Rumour ” 

Warton quotes Holmshed's description of a pageant exhibited m the 
court of Henry VIII “ Then entered a person called Report^ apparelled 
in crimson sattin, full of toongs, or chronicles.” Farmer lemarks that 
Stephen Hawes, in his Pastime of Pleasure, had described Rumour as 

“ A goodly lady, envyroned about 
With tongues of fire,” 

and so had Sir Thomas More, in one of his Pageants : 

" Fame I am called, merveyle you nothing 
Though with touges I am compassed all rounde. ’ 

Cf also Chaucer, The House of Fame, 298 

** And sothe to tellen also shee 
Had also fele up stondyng eies 
And tonges, as on bestes heres ” 

This description, as the context shows, was suggested by Virgil’s m JEn, 
iv 174 fol , to which the others quoted above were doubtless also in- 
debted * 

3. Drooping Sinking, declining. Malone quotes Mack lii. 2. 52: 
“ Good things of day begin to droop and drowse,*’ etc. 

6. Tongues, The quarto leading , the folio has “ tongue.” 

12. Fearful Full of fear , as in i Hen IV, iv. i 67, etc. 

13 Big Pregnant , as in W,T,vt,i 64, Cymk 1. 1 39, etc 
15, And no such matter. And it is nothing of the kind Cf. Sonn, 87, 
14 ** In sleep a king, but waking no such matter Much Ada, n 3 225 . 
“The spoit will be, when they hold one an opinion of another's &tage, 
and no such matter,” etc 

17. Stop, The holes m a pipe or flute are called stops, Cf. Ham, in. 2. 
76, 376, 381, etc. 

18. Blunt, Dull, stupid; as in T G ofV,\\ 6. 41. 

Judge Holmes, in his Auikorshtf> of Shakespeare, among his ” parallelisms be- 
tween Bacon and Shakespeare, cites this description of Rumour and the following fiom 
Bacon's Essay of Fame “ The poets make fanae a mo7tster> Theydescnbe her in part 
finely and elegantly j and m part gravely and sententiously They say, look how many 
feathers she hath , so many eyes she hath underneath , so many tongues , so many voices , 
she pncks up so many ears This is a flounsh There follow excellent parables , as 
that she gatnereth strength in going; that she goeth upon the ground, and yet hidetb 
her head m the clouds , that m the daytime she sitteth in a v.^atch-to^^er, and fiieth most 
by mght; that she mmgleth things done with thinj^ not done, and that she is a terror to 
great cities 

It will be seen that this is almost a literal translation of Virgil*s description , even the 
word monster, which the Judge itahcires as parallel to “the blunt monster with nn- 
I counted heads/’ being directly suggested by the ** nmtsir-nm horrendura ” of the Latin 
And yet it is quoted as one of the “instances of sinking resem&lances, in paiticular 
words and phrases, lying beyond the range of accidental coinctdenceT etc i 



But, Valentine being gone, I ’ll quickh cioss 
By some sly tnck blunt Ihurio’s dull proceeding” 

20 What need /, etc Why need I, etc Cf 1 2 107 below “ What 
tell you me of it>” See also R of L C \\ i 123, Hi,n VIII. n 4 

12S, etc 

26 Rebellion. A quadi isyllable , as in 1 i. 50 below Gr 479 

33* Peasant Heie=piovincial, or rmal The Coll. Mb substitutes 

pleasant ” 

35 Hold The eaily eds have “hole corrected by Theo 
37 Crafty-sick Craftily sick, or feigning sickness. The hyphen is 
not 111 the eaily eds In these compound adjectives, the fiist pait is often 
adveibial bee Gr. 2 


Scene I — i The Potter opens the gate Some editors follow the Coll 
MS in placing the Poitei “above the gate.” The quarto reads Enter 
the Lotd Batdolfe at one aoote f the folios : Enter Lord Bardolfe^ and 
the Porter P 

2. What Who, as often in thepiedicate. Cf 1 2 54 below' ; “What’s 
he that goes thei e 

5 Please it, 1 / it please See Jlf of V p 136, note on Pleaseth me 

8 Stratagem “A dieadful deed, any thing amazing and appalling” 
(Schmidt) Qi M of V V i 85 “ht for tieasons, ctiatagems, and 
spoils,” 3 Hen VI 11 5 89 “What stiatagems, how lell, how butchei- 
ly,” etc. 

13 God. Changed in the folios to “heaven,” as in many other cases 
Cf 0 th p 1 1, and i Hen IV p 144, note on ^Sblood 

19 Bt iivti. Mass of flesh , applied contemptuously to Falstaff, as in 
I Hen IV 11 4 123 “that damned biawm ” 

20. Day Day of battle, combat , as often Cf 52 and i 2 139 bdow' 

21. Follow'd That is, the advantage gained being follow’ed up Cf 

111 I. 75 “ thus did he follow' it ” (that is, follow it up) See also T N. 

V I 373 “ How with a spoittul malice it was follow’d ” 

30 Ovet-rode Outiode, lode past, used by S only heie, Qi over- 
runz=io\xX\ un. m Hen VIII i i 143 

n. Forspent Evhausted, woi n out Cf ^ Hen VI u 3 i “Forspent 
with toil, as iimneis with a race” In Hen K 11 4 ^6,forspe7rt=toiQ- 
gone, past Steevens quotes Sir A Gorges, trans of “ciabbed 

sires, foi spent with age ” Fordone is used m the same sense m Jll N' D 
V. I 381 

44. Armed The quarto reading, the folios mi^piint “able,” which 
the compositor doubtless caught fiom the line above. Pope substituted 
“agile” Vaughan confuses the mattei thus “The folios altered able 
horse [in 43] to armed horse , and Pope amended both by agile horse f 
and then he proceeds to defend able horse by reference to T of A 11 i. 
10 : “ Ten able horses,” 



45 Poo't jade ‘ Used not in contempt but in compassion” (Stee- 
vens) Malone cites Ruh JI v 5 85 “ I hat jade hath eat biead from 

my loyal hand but theie something of repioacli may be implied See 
Hen V p 170 

47 Devoit7‘ the loay Cf Catullus, ad Papyi 7 “viam vorabit” 
Stee\ens quotes Job^ xxxix 24, and B J, Sijanus “they greedily de- 
\our the way ’ 

48 Staying no longer question Cf M of V w i 346 “ I ’ll stay no 
longer question ” See also M iV 11 i. 235 

53 Point A tagged lace, used in fastening parts of the diess, espe- 
cially the bieeches Cf 11 4 102 below (where it may mean some maik 
of his commission, like the modern “shoiildei-stiaps”), and see T. A\ p. 

1 2$, note on If one break 

57 Hilding Base, menial See R and J p 172 

60 Titledcaf Steevejis lemaiks that in the time of S the title-page 
to an elegy was entiiely black , but the simile is equally expressive if we 
take title-leaf \w its ordinary sense 

62 Strand The early cds have “stiond” See i Iltu IV p 139. 
Foi ujheieon the folios have “when ’ 

63 Usurpation Metiically five syllables See on ind 26 above A 

’Witness'd nsurpation:=.^'‘ that bear witness to its invasion ” 

69 Apter Foi the compaiative, cf A Y L m 2 408 “she is apter 
to do than to confess she does ” 1 he supeilative occuis m 213 below'. 

71 Woe-begone This compound, which is familiar enough now, seem'* 
to have been less common half a century ago Warb andSteevens think 
it necessar> to define and illustrate it, and Di Bentlej proposed “Ucal- 
egon” (cf Viigil, ASn 11 312) as an emendation ’ S uses the woid no- 
where else 

72 Diew Pliant's cm tain That is, diew it aside See i Hem IV p. 
1S7, note on Diaws a cm tain 

86 Instinct Accented on the last syllable, as elsewhere in S. Cf 
. Cymb IV 2 177 “ That an invisible instinct should fiaine them,” Rick. 

III. 11 3 42 “By a divine instinct men’s minds mistrust,” etc. Gr, 

87. Chanced. The quarto reading , the folios have “ chanc'd ” 

93 Yet, for all thi^, etc. Johnson would give this line to Bardolph, as 
inconsistent with what follows. The conti adiction cannot, he says, be 
imputed to the disti action of Noithumbei land’s mind, on account ot “the 
calmness of the reflection contained in the last lines” He also gave 
lines 100-103 to Morton, as “a pioper piepaiation for the tale that he is 
unwilling to tell ” The old text may well enough stand if we assume a 
pause aftei this fiist line. Northumbeiland is not willing to accept the 
intimation expressed in the preceding speech “ And vet,” he says, “ don’t 
tell me that he is dead ” But his appealing words and look meet with 
no encouraging i espouse in Mui Ion’s face, and he goes on, “1 see a 
strange contession,” etc 

95. Feai Something to be afiaid of, a feaiful thing Cf iv 5 196 

102 Sullen Cf Sonn 71 3 “the suily sullen bell,” R and J iv 5, 



88 Our solemn hymns to sullen dirges change,” etc. See also Mil- 
ton, // Fens, 76 , “ Swinging slow with sullen roai ” 

103 Knolhiig The folio leading, the quartos have “tolling” Cf. 
A, Y, L 11. 7 1 14 “where bells have knoll’d to church and Macb v 
8 50 “ his knell iS kuoll’d ” Malone took to be=depai ted , 

but, as Steevens notes, the allusion is to “ the passing bell, that is, the 
bell that solicited prayeis for the soul passing mto anothei woild ” 

loS Quittance Requital, return of blows, ihe word is used as a 
veib {=requite, retaliate) in i Hen, VI 11 i. 14 Out-bi eaW d- o\xt of 
breath, exhausted. 

ii2 In few In few words, in shoit See Ham p 191 
1 14 Bi'uited, Noised abroad, CL Macb, v 7 22^ Ham, i 2. 127, etc 
1 17 Abated, “ Reduced to lower tempei'^ or, as the woi kmen call it, let 
dowiV" (Johnson) Claike remaiks* “So coiiectly maintained in tech- 
nical appiopi lateness are many of Shakespeare’s figuiative allusions that 
he often Uises woids with peculiar and unusually inclusive foice, which 
should be examined and known, m order fully to appieciate the whole 
scope of his passages.” 

120, Enforcement Application of force. Cf. A, W. v. 3 107: “by 
what lough enforcement,” etc 

133 Fled, Walker conjectures “fly,” and Vaughan “flew.” 

138 Had thee times slam, etc See i Hen, IV v*3 
129 Gan vatl his stomach. Began to lowei his pride or coinage. For 
gan, see Macb, p 153, note on Gins , for vatl. Ham, p 179 or of V 
128 j and for stomach. Ham p. 174 or Temp, p 115. Cf T. of S.v, 2 
176 j “ Then vail your stomachs, ibi it is no boot,” 

133 Power Aimed foice, as in iv 4. 5 below See i Hen IV p. 140. 
135, At full In full, fully , as m M, par M i, i,t^ C. ME. i 1, 123, etc. 
137. In poison there ts physic Vaughan remaiks • “ S seems to have 
heaid the just old maxim of medicine, ‘ TJbi virus, ibi virtus ,’ but he has 
added to it explanations so expressed as to furnish a good motto for the 
modern principle of homoeopathy ” 

These news The quarto reading, the folios have “this news.” S. 
uses the forms interchangeably See Much Ado, p 125 

138 Having been well, etc For the transposition of the paiticipial 
clauses, see Gr 425 

141 Strengthless, Cf V and A 1 53: “Two strengthless doves 
of L 709 “ Strengthless pace,” etc 
Buckle=\oQr^, or bend Cf the Yankee expression, “ buckle down to 
It ” B, J. uses the word in his Staple of News, 11. i 
“ And teach this body 

To bend, and these my aged knees to buckle. 

In adoration and just worship of you” 

144. The fiist^/^=pam, as in i Hen IV.i 3 51 and v, i 134. See 
our ed. p 149 

145. Nice “ Over-delicate, effeminate ” (Clarke). 

147. Quoif Cap, or hood , as m ^ T’ iv 4. 226 

148 Wanton Luxurious. See i Hen. IV p. 176, note on The wanton 



149. Fleshed. “ Made fierce and eager for combat, as a dog fed wnh 
flesh only” (Schmidt) See T N p 157, 01 J/eu V pp 160, 164 

i$i, Fagged'‘si^ Roughest, wildest Theo substituted “lugged’st,” 
but cf A, K Z. 11 5 IS : My voice is ragged,” and see note m our ed. 
p. 160 

157. Cat 7 Z, Ci L L L 1V236, Zf' yokn, m, 4. 79, Rtck. IT, v 6. 43, i 
Hen. VI 1. 3 39, and Hafft. v i % 

160 Attd darkness^ etc “The conclusion of this noble speech is ex- 
tremely sti iking, Theie is no need to suppose it exactly philosophical , 
dai'kness^ m poetry, ma;y be absence of eyes, as well as privation of light. 
Yet we may remaik that by an ancient opinion it has been held that if \ 
the human race, for whom the world w'as made, weie e^ctirpated, the ^ 
whole system of sublunary natuie would cease ” (Johnson). 

Vaughan remaiks “Johnson did not fully appiehend the imagery of 
this passage, in which there is no want of perfect and liteial fidelity to 
the truth Darkness here means objective darkness. . . . The metaphor* 
is one diawn from the stage on which tragedies weie exhibited, as the 
words stage, act, and scene intimate, and it is perfectly sustained fiom 
beginning to end He pi ays that the w'oild may become a stage for the 
exhibition, not of a piolonged contention, but of such a tiuculcnt and fu- 
rious death-struggle as will quickly culminate in the catastiophe of a vast 
slaughter, and that the dead lying on the ground may be buiied out of 
sight by a darkness which will envelop every thing. It is certain that 
during the performance the stage was aitificially lighted, and the rest of 
the theatre also , and it is probable that these lights were extinguished 
immediately on the close of the performance. The parallelism of the 
actual atroaty wished for to the tragical representation by which it is il- 
lustrated IS sustained into the darkness which ends* both.” Vaughan 
w'ould change feed (:;=foster, keep up) 111 156 to “see but this is unnec- 

161. This stramed passion, etc. This Ime in the quarto is given to 
Umfrevile (“ 6^w/n”),who (see 34 above) is not present; in the folios it 
is omitted. Capell assigned it to Travers, as m the text ; Pope gave it 
with the next hue to Bardolph exaggerated, excessive. 

163 Complices, Accomplices, confederates Cf. A //. ii. 3 165,111. 
1. 43, etc. * 

165. Ferfoice Of necessity ; as in iv, 5 34 below It often means by 
force. See on iv. 1. 116 below. The remainder of this speech is omitted 
in the quarto, 

166 Cast, Calculated. Cf. v. 1. 17 below • “Let it be cast and paid.” 

168. Make head. Raise an army. Cf, i Hen, XV, lii i. 64 . 

“ Three times hath Henjy Bohngbroke made head 
Against my power,” 

and see note in our ed p 1 73 On head, cf. i. 3. 7 ^ below 

Presurmtse, Surmise or suspiaon m advance ; a word used by S. no- 
where else* 

1%, hole. Dealing, distribution See W, T p 156, 

170 On an edge, Cf. I Hen, XV* i, 3 £91 ; 



As full of peril and adventurous spint 
As to o’envalk a current roanng loud 
On the unsteadfast footing of a spear 

172 Advis'd Well awaie Cf T of S i i 191 “But ait then not 
advis’d,” etc (are you not awaie,do you not undeistand, etc ) Capable 
=:susceptible , as in K John, 11 i 476 “ capable of this ambition Id, 

III I 12 “capable ot teal-*,” etc. 

174. Trade, Activity, lively interchange Cf Heii. VIII y i 36: 
“Stands in the gap and tiade of moie preferments” (that is, in the com- 
mon coujse of preieiment). 

377 Stiff-borne Obstinately earned on 

180. £,ngaged to this loss lhat is, bound or tied to it (Schmidt) , in- 
volved in It Malone cites i Ben IV,m, 2 9S, “moie woilby interest 
to the state ” 

184. Chok'd the respect of. Did awaj with our regard foi, made us in- 
cliffeient to Foi ;i'j//r/=consideiation, legaid, cf K John, m,i 90, A/. 
of V \ \ 74, etc 

189-209. '1 hese lines are omitted in the quni to 

190 Perwers Foices. Cf the use of the singular in 133 above 

193 Corpse Plural , as in i Ben. IV 3 i 43 See oui ed p 140 

196, Queasmesi Nausea, distaste , used by b only here. 

197, That, ^iJthat; as m iv i 216 ]>elow G1.2S3 

200 Bishop The Coll MS leads “archbishop,” but cf 111 i 95 and 

IV 2 15 (see IV 2 2) below, in neithei of which passages does the “old 
corrector” make any change 

201 PeligioTi. A quadiisyllable See on ind 26 above Turns 
suneition to ;^/;g/d)7/= makes" lebelhon seem a saciecl duty 

204 Bnlaige Jm using Extend his insmrection J H. sa^s “en- 
hance the mei it of his insmrection ” Withzs^y)' Gr 193. 

205 Pomfret Alluding to Pomfiet Castle, wheie, accoi ding to S, 
Richard was* murdered bee Rich II p 208 

207. Bestiide That is, in defence of one fallen Cf i Ben IV.v i 
122 “ Hal, if thou see me down m the battle, and bestiide me, so,” and 
see note in oui ed p 197, or Maeb p 237 

209 Afore and less High and low. Cf I Hen IV, vi 3 68 “The 
moie and less came m with cap and knee,” and see note m our ed p 

213. Aptesi, See on 69 above 

Scene II — i. What says the doctor^ etc* The method of investigat- 
ing diseases by the inspection of mine only was once so much the fashion 
that Linacre, the foundei of the College of Physicians, foimed a statute 
to restrain apothecaries fiom cairying the water of then patients to a 
doctor, and aftei wards giving medicines in consequence of the opinions 
they received concei ning it” (Steevens) Boswell remaiks “ The same 
-impudent quackery is earned on at thisr dav ” bee T N' ^ 153, note on 
Water, and for the playful use of giant, zt Id p 131, note on fiome mol-- 
lificatwn, etc. 

4, Owed. Owned , as very often See IC John, p. 145 



6 Gtrd Gibe, jeer Cf Co^ 5 i. 260 “Being mo\’d, he will not 
spaie to gild the gods.” We find the noun mT oj S v. 2. 58 and i Hen, 
VI 111 I 13 1 

14 Mandrake, On the fancied resemblance of the loot of this plant 
to the human foi m, see R and J p 206 

16 Agate, Alluding to the figuies cut in agates used for seals, etc Cf, 
L,LL\\i 236 “ Hib heait, like an agate, with your pnnt impress’d 
Much Ada, 111 I 65 “ If low, an agate \eiy vilely cut,” etc 

For inset (the quaito leading) the folios have “sette ” 

18 Juvenal Youth, a woid used elsewheie in S only by Aimado 
(A Z Z 1 2 8, 111 I 67) and Flute {M N D \\\ 1 97) 

21. Face-royal Playing on the double sense ot a lo^al or kingly face 
and the piofile stamped on the coin called a loyal. See i Hen, IV ^ 
146, note on Stand for ten shillings 

23 lor a barber, etc “ The poet seems to mean that a baiber can no 
moie eain sixpence by his face-ioyal than by the face stamped on the 
coin , the one requiring as little sha\ing as the othei ” (Steeveiih) Ma- 
son explains it better “if nothing be taken out ot a loyal, it will lemain 
a loyal as it was ” 

28 Slops Loose bi eeches See Much Ado, p 143 

30 Band, Bond, as in i Hen IV 111 2 157, etc 

33, His tongue be hotter Alluding to the iich man in the parable 
{Luke, XVI. 24) 

Achitophel Ahithophel, the counsellor of Absalom, cursed by David 
(2 Sam XV 3i)» 

A rascally, yea-forsooth knave “The mild quality of citizen oaths is 
heie again alluded to ^ee i Hen IV, in i 252 fob], and excites no less 
disgust m FalstafF than in Hotspiu — affoidmg an edifying comment on 
the strange points that affoid selficomplacency to those w'ho plume them- 
selves on their aiistocratic superiority and patrician super - excellence. 
Veiy noteworthy is it that even while exciting our highest admiration at 
the spuited lines with which he has limned Hairy Peicy, or at the unc- 
tion of blended wit and humour with which he makes Sn John fabiicate 
a characteristic epithet out of a j^etty oath by way of designating a city 
mercer, he gives us at the veiy same time a pithy index of the insolent 
assumptions entertained by the dominant and domineering classes in his 
time ” (Clarke), 

To bear a gentleman in hand That is, to keep him m expectation, 
flattei him with false hopes. See Macb p 208. 

35 Smooth-pates “ A synonym for the later and more historical name 
roundheads ” ( V aughan ) 

37, If a man, etc. “ If a man does his utmost in bon owing, or lathei 
if a man condescends to bonow, m an honourable manner” (Schmidt). 
Pope changed thi ougk to “ thorough.” For take obtain on trust, cf* 
Much Ado, p. 148, 

38 Had as lief Good English then as now See A,y L ^ 139. 

40. Looked. Expected. Cf Sonn 22. 4 “ Then look I death my days 
should expiate.” See also Rich II 1 3 2^‘^,Hen VIIL v. i. 118, etc. 

43 Horn, There is an allusion to the horn of the cuckold, and also to 


1 54 

the use of horn instead of glass in lanterns, with a play on lightness 
{= wantonness), for which ct L L L v 2. 19 fol , M of V v. 1 130, etc 
Waib lemarks that the same joke occurs m Plautus, Amph 1 i “Quo 
annbulas tu, qui Vulcanum in coinu conclusum geiis^” and Steevens cites 
71 ie Two Maids of Mof edacke^ 1609 

“your wrongs 

Shine thiough the horn, as candles in the eve, 

To light out others ” 

Vaughan observes that the old spelling of lanthorn (as m the quarto) fa- 
vours the joke ; it having ansen out of the notion that the article took its 
name fi om the horn used for its sides. 

48 In Pauls. That is, in Old bt Paul’s Cathedral, which was a place 
of daily resoit for the idle and unemployed, as w^ell as for the man of bus- 
iness. Keed quotes The Choice of Change^ 1598 “a man must not make 
choyce of thiee things in three places Of a wife in Westminster, of a 
seivant m Panics; of a hoise in Smithfield; lest he chase a queane, a 
knave, 01 a jade ” Malone adds fiom Osboine, Menton s of James I 
“It was the fashion in those times . . . foi the piincipal gentry, loids, 
com tiers, and men of all professions, not meiely mechanicks, to meet in 
St Paul’s church by eleven, and walk in the middle aisle till twelve, and 
after dinner from three to six , duiing which time some discoursed of bus- 
iness, otheis of news. Now, in regaid of the universal commeice — theie 
I happened little that did not fiist or last arrive here ’’ Before the intio- 
! duction of newspapers, notices and advertisements were often posted 
on the pillars m this church. Blakeway quotes the letter of a servant in 
Harl MS. 2050 . “ for yf . . . I sett my bill m Paules, in due or two dayes 
I cannot want a servisse.” Cf. Nash, Pierce Penmlesse ' “ the master- 
lesse men, that sette up their bills m Paules for services.” In Ben Jon- 
son’s Every Man out of hts Humour^ the scene through the chief part of 
act 111. is laid in Paul’s, and the action is in keeping with these descrip- 
tions of the habits of the place. Cf Ruh III in 6 i 

“This IS the indictment of the good lord Hastings, 

Which in a set hand feirly is engross’d 
lliat It may be this day read over in Pau?s.” 

51. The nobleman, etc Sir William Gascoigne, Chief- Justice of the 
King’s Bench bee cut on p 53 above, and note on v. 2. 113 below. 

67. Begging. The quarto leading , the folios have “ beg.” 

76 I had lied in my throat “ The he in ihe throat was a he uttered de- 
liberately ; the he in the teeth was one for which some excuse was allowed 
on the ground of its having proceeded from haste or some palliating 
cause ”(J. H.) 

82. Cl 07£/s to me. Is an essential part of me. 

83. Thou weri better. It were bettei for thee. See J C,"g 166, note on 
You were best, or Gr. 230 and 352 (cf 190) 

You hunt counter. You aie on the wiong scent, you are at fault The 
folio has “ Hunt-countei, ’ which is followed by some of the modern eds. 
Johnson defines kunUcounter “blunderer,” and Ritson as “worthless 
dog,” Tuibervile, in his Booke of Hunting, says. “ When a hound hunt- 



eth backwards the same way that the chase is come, then we say he hunt- 
eth counter” Cf C of E.iv 2 39 “a hound that luns counter,” and 
Ham IV, 5 1 10: “ O, this is countei, you fal^e Danish dogs 

loi W/io> eson “ Applied not only to persons, but to anv thing, as a 
teim of lepioach or ludicrous dislike, and sometimes (as in the language 
of Doll Tearsheet) used even in a tone of coarse tenderness ’ (Schmidt) 
Cf 11 4 173 and 192 below 

105. A kind of sleeping The folios omit kind of and an V please your 

107 PVhal lell yoUi Qtc "Why tell you, etc See on ind. 20 above 

108 li oiiginal The quaito and the fiist two folios ha\e it^ the later 
folios its ” For this possessive it, see T’ p 172, note on Jt (non In 
the next clause, in his effects^ we have the usual //zj‘=its 

1 13 Vety well, etc This speech in the quaito has the piefix “ OldP 
See p. 10 above 

1 16 To punish you hy the heels Schmidt makes this=“to set 30U in 
the stocks,” but Cku ke quotes Lord Campbell “To layby wasthe 

technical expiession for committing to piison, ai!S I could produce from 
the Reports vaiious instances, of its being so used by distinguished judges 
fiom the bench ” Ct Hen, VIII, v. 4. 83 1 he lepl} of Falstaff seems to 

show that imprisonment is lefeired to heie 

II7, If I do become The quarto reading, the folio has “if I be ” 

127. Advised by mv learned counsel. As Claike remaiks, FalstaiF had 
good legal ground for not coming. Being engaged on military service 
under the king’s older, he was not bound to answer the summons of the 

136 The fellow with the girat belly Tiobably an allusion to some well- 
known blind beggai of the time who was led by his dog 

141. For your quiet ’^posting For your getting easily clear of 

148. A wassail candle. “A laige candle lighted up at a feast. Theie 
is a poor quibble upon the woid wax, which signifies increase as well as 
the matter of the honey-comb” (Johnson) Steevens notes that a similar 
play occuis in L, L, L, v, 2 10 “That was the w^ay to make his godhead 
wax.” For wassail (=dimking-bout, carousal), ci L L L 2, 318: 
“wakes and wassails;” and Ham 1 4. 9 “keeps wassail ” 

152. dravy, “Falstaff’s reply has an interest beside its waggishness, 
as showing that grcmity w'as pronounced preserving the sound 

of lib root; else his joke would have been no joke at all ” ( W ) 

154 III, The folio has “ evil ” (“ euill ”), which W. says is “ an epithet 
much bettei suited to angel than illf'* but compare “ill spint” m Temp 
3. 2, 45S and y C, iv 3. 289 

155 Angel, A play upon the name of the com. See K, John, p 151, 
or M,ofV,^ 144 

157. 1 cannot go, /cannot tell. Probably, as Johnson suggests, there is 
a play on go and tell in the senses of “pass current” and “ count as good 

158. These costermonger times. “These times when the prevalence of 
trade has produced that meanness Jhat lates the merit of every thing by 
money ” (Johnson). 



159 Beai'Juid One who leadb about a tame bear as a show. See 
Much Ado, p 129 

F?ei^Ji<uuy Ready wit, the only instance of the noun in S Cf the 
use oi the adjective in Ham 11 2 212 “How piegnant sometimes his 
leplies are See also T N' p 134 

164 The heat ofou) liz'ets toi the Iner as the seat of animal passion, 
cf I Jlen 2 V 11 4 355, Temp iv i 56, M ofV\i 81, etc See also v 5. 
31 below 

165 Vatoaj'd Liteially =vangiiaid, as in Hen V iv 3 130, heie 
ii'.ed metaphoiically, as in N D. w i no “the \award of the 
day ’ 

1 71 Your chin double Omitted in the folios, doubtless by accident 

172 Your wit single That is, simple 01 silly Single is thus used only 
in quibbling (Schmidt) Cf Cor 11 i 40 “your helps aie many, or else 
\oui actions would glow w’ondious single ” Claike remarks here “ That 
the Chief-Justice should use the epithet smc^le heie to express simple af- 
foids a notable instance of Falstaff’s being ‘ the cause that wit is in other 
men,’ and that his loidship should apply the epithet single to Falstaff’s 
wit IS as notable a token ot how thoioughlv the knight’s imperturbable 
huuioui has power to put him out of humour, just as, latei in the play, 
he loses his temper so utteily as to call Falstaff ‘ a great fool ” 

173 Antiquity Old age, as in 62 10,108 12, A F Z iv 3 106, 
and A lY i\ 2 220 “ 

176 Something a A somewhat Something \s often used adveibially, 
as in M of V \ i 124, 129, 11 2 18, 194, etc Gi 68 

178 Appiove Pro\e, as in 149 above 

181 Have at him lhat is, I am leady for the tiial. See Hen V 
p. 170, or/Zw VIII p 174. 

183 Checked Repro\ed, as in 111 i. 68 below See also y C. p 172, 
note on Check'd like a bondman 

185 Old sack Bowie quotes Sir John Hainngton, Epigi'ams 

Sackcloth and cmdeis they advise to use 

back, cloves, and sugar thou wouldst have to chuse ” 

194. Look you puiy, etc lhat is, take caie that you pray, etc, Cf. 
K. John, IV I I, Hen V 11. 4 49, etc. D points thus “ Look you, pray, 
all you,” etc 

Spit while A perplexing expression Claike savs “Reckoned 
a sign of thirst, which Falstaff, with his relish foi wine, desires to feel, as 
giving anticipatory zest Spungius, m Massinger's V.igm Martyr, says, 
‘Had I been a pagan still, I should not have spit white foi w^ant of 
drink Fuimvall quotes Batman uppon Bartholome, ed 1582* “ If the 
spettle be white viscus, the sicknesse commeth of fleame, if black, of 
melancholy . The whitte spettle not knottie, sigmffeth health ” Per- 
haps this last sentence js the key to the puzzle 

200. Well, I Lannot last ever The leinainder of the speech is omitted 
in the folios 

209, Bound. Often plural with numerals See Pick II p 182. 

2 12 To bear crosses Another quibble from the venerable Chief- Justice. 



He plays upon cioss^ which often meant a coin stamped w uh a cioss Cf 
A y T u 4 12 “I should bear no cross it I did beai you, for I think 
you have no money m yoiii pui&c * See al&o Z Z Z 1 2 36 

214 wd iJith a th) ee-ifiiiti beetle Sleevcns sa\s t’.iat it is a com- 

mon spoit with the Waiwickshiic buys, to put a toad on one end of a 
bhoit bond placed acioaa a small log, and then to stiike the other end 
with a bat, thus tin owing the cieatuie high in the air This is called fillip- 
in^r the toad A three-man beetle is a heav) lamraei with llnee handles 
us^d in diiving piles, leqiming thiee men to wield it Such a beetle 
would evidently be suitable for filliping a weight like Falstaff’s 

228 Colour Piete\t(sce W T p 202), excuse for my 01 lame- 
ness Cf V 5 85 below 

230 Commodity, Pi ofit, advantage CfZ*7;,u i 23 
“om mere defects 
Prove our commodities ” 

Scene III — i JCnowt The quaito leading, the folios have “know ” 

7 In our means WKh the means we have 

8 To look^^tz That is, to piesent a sufficiently bold fiont Cf the use 

oilook 37^(=look boldly or threateningly) in TofS, 111 2 230, W T iv. 
3 Hen IV w i 58, etc. " . 

9 Puissance Used as a dissyllable or a tusyllable» accoiding to the 
measuie. See Hen V p 1441 and cf 77 below . 

10 Our piesent musteis grow upon the file, lhat is, “the muster file 
amounts” {A IV iv 3 189) 

13 Supplies, Reinfoi cements , as m A ^ohn, v 3 9, v. 5 12, i Hen. JV . 
iv 3. 3, etc. See also 28 below, 

14 Incensed Kindled, blazing , „ ^ , 

22 Theme Matter, business. Cf Ham v. i 289 “ I will fight with 

him upon this theme,” etc . , , ^ ^ 

24. Incertam Used by S interchangeably with uncertain See /r. / 
p ^77 (note on Incei tainhes) or K John, p. 143 (note on Info^tunate) Gi 

^27 Lin'd. Strengthened, sustained Cf i Hen IV ii 3 86 “To line 
his enterprise.” See also Vn 4 j^Mach 1 3 1 12, etc 

28 Eating the air^ etc. Cf Ham 111 2 99 “I eat the aii, promise- 
crammed,” alluding, as here, to “ the chameleon’s dish ” 

20. In project of a power., etc That is, with expectations of a foice 
which pioved to be much smaller, etc The folios have “with” for tn 
31 Imagination Metrically six syllables See on md 26 above, and 

cf 33 and 65 below un 

%2. Proper to Appiopriate to, belonging to Cf 7 C i 2 41 t^on- 
ceptions only proper to myself,” Ham 11 1 114 “piopei to oui age, 


33 . Winking Shutting his eyes. Zi R of L, 458, 553, Sonn 43 i, 
KJokn, 11 I 215, etc See also the use of the noun wznk m Temp 11 i. 

285 and W, T,i 2 317 , , . r .v n r. 

36-53 yes,in , 0} else Omitted m the quarto. In the folio, the 

passage begins thus 



“Yes, if this present quality of wane, 

Indeed the instant action a cause on foot, 

Liues so 111 hope As in an early Spring,” etc. 

This is unquestionably coriupt, and it may be that something has been 
lost fiom the text Of the vaiious attempts to mend it, Malone’s is per- 
haps the most satisfactory, as it ceitainly is the simplest. W , who also 
adopts it, paiaphrases the opening lines as follows “Yes, in this present 
quality, function, or business of war, it is hai mfiil to laj down likelihoods, 
etc. Indeed this veiy action or affaii — a cause on foot — is no moie hope- 
ful of fruition than the buds of an unseasonably eaily spring.” Pope gave 

“Yes, if this present quality of war 
Impede the instant act, a cause,” etc 

Johnson proposed 

“Yes, in this present quality of war, 

Indeed of instant action A cause,” etc 

Mason would read 

“ Yes, if this prescient quality of war 
Induc'd the instant action A cause,” etc 

K. points the passage tlius . 

“ Yes , — if this present quality of war, — 

(Indeed the instant action, a cause on foot) 

Lives,” etc 

Coll, follows his MS corrector, and leads. 

“ Yes, in this present quality of war 
Indeed, the instant act and cause on foot 
Lives,” etc 

I) adopts the reading in the text. V prints the text in the following in- 
comprehensible form 

“Yes, m this present quality of war, — 

Indeed the instant action, a cause on foot, — 

Lives,” etc , 

and adds a note from which we cannot make out whether the text is mis- 
printed 01 not, oi, if It is, what it was meant to be St , the Camb editors, 
and Claike retain the folio text, though they believe it to be corrupt, H. 
follows K , believing that the change of ^to tn “inci eases the obscurity, 
while forsaking authority,” but in his school ed. he makes this change, 
and points the passage as in the text, 

39, Which to frmU And that these will become fruit. Tor the 
construction, cf A. K Z. v. 4 171 . 

“This to be true 
I do engage my life.” 

See also C.ofE\,\\\ Gr 354. 

42. Model Plan See Much Ado, p 127 

47, In fewer offices. With fewer apartments. Offices was especially 
applied to the servants’ quarteis in a house. See Rich. 11 p 159. 

For at least Capell substituted “at last,” but, as Clarke suggests, the 
phrase may heie be=**at worst, supposing the least advantageous pros- 



52 Consent Agiee, as in ^ y Z v i 48 “all your writers do con- 
sent that ipse IS he,” etc Ihe Coll MS gives “consult ” 

54 How able siuh a wotk, etc Vaughan lemaiks “ 1 wo constructions 
aie admissible. Fnst, ‘how fai snch a propeity is able to bear a woik 
that will counterpoise the woik opposed to it, or the opposition to be 
bi ought against it ’ Such fiequently refeis in S to the paity, peison, or 
quality last spoken of. 1 he second construction is, ‘ how far our estate 
IS able to beai the expense of such a work as will countei poise that which 
IS opposed to it ’ 1 he ellipse oias under such circumstances is not laie ” 
We prefei, as he does, the latter explanation Cf i Hen /F 11 3 13 “and 
your whole plot too light foi the counterpoise of so gieat an opposition.” 

Between 54 and 55 the Coll MS inserts the line “ a careful leader sums 
what foice he bungs ” The “corrector” apparently did not understand 
that his (in 55)=its 

56 In paper “ On paper which the Coll MS substitutes 

60 Cost. Put foi that on which the money has been spent, 01 the cost- 
ly building 

62 Churlish Rough, rude Cf. F Z. 11. i 7* “And chiulish chid- 
ing of the w Intel’s wind ” 

67 Equal with Cope with 

71 Against the French During this rebellion, a French army of twelve 
thousand men landed at Milford Haven, in Wales, for the aid of Oleii- 
dovver (Steeven^ 

72 Perforce Of necessity See on 1 i 165 above 

73. Take up Encounter, cope with, as in Cor, iij i, 244: 

“ I could myself 

Take up a brace o’ the best of tuem,” etc. 

Unfirm, Cf 7* W 11 4 34, y C 1 3 4, i?. and y. v 3 6, etc, S also 
uses infirm, as m Macb 11 2 52, etc See on 24 above 

76. Stiengtks Foi the concrete use, cf K John, ii. i 388 “your united 
stiengths,” etc. 

77. Puissance Here a tiisyllable. See on 9 above 

80 Baying him Chasing him, driving him to bay. Cf M, N D, vt, 

“When in a wood of Crete they bay’d the bear 
With hounds of Spaita,” 

and y. C 111 I 204 “ Here wast thou bay’d, brave hart ” 

81. Like Likely, as often Cf M of V,ii 7 49 “Is ’t like that lead 
contains her^” 

85-108 Let us ojif etc. This speech is omitted in the quarto 

91 Pond Foolish, the commonest meaning of the woid in S See 
M N jD.p 16^ 01 M of F p 152. Douce considers many to he=meyny, 
fiom the Fr mesnie, but it is probably nothing more than the adjective 
us^d as a noun and personified 

94 TrtnmPd in thine own desires A peculiar expression, apparently 
zntrimmed up (the 2d, 3d, and 4th folios read “ tnmm’d up”) in the things 
thou desiiedst Cf Pick. Ill iv 3 34 “and be inheritor of thy desire,” 
Vaughan would read “cramm’d,” as more consistent with the context 



102 Enamom'd on Cf i Ben IV.v 2 70, and see our ed p. 199 

103 That threw' st etc Cf Rich // v 2 30. “But dust was 
thiown upon Ins sacied head ” 

109 Diaiu Diaw togethei, assemble. See i Hen IV. p 189, note on 
El aw his powei 

Set on. bet out, march See Rich, II p 197. 


SciuNi!. I — ^3 Yeoman Undei -bailiff, or sheriff’s officer 

16. Fom, Thiust; a fencing term Cf M JV n ^ 24 “To see th'^e 
fight, to see thee fom,” Much Ado, v. i 84 “I ’ll whip you fiom your 
foining fence,” etc See also 11. 4. 193 below. ^ 

21. Vice Figuiatively=grasp. 

23 Infinitive Mrs. Quickly’^ “deiangement of epitaphs” needs no 
special comment 

25 Saving yom manhoods An expiession used also by Fluellen 
V.iv S 2^) zi\d=saviug youi honour, o\ your 7 everence 

26 LubbeVs-head YXitiX \s>, Libbard's-head llot libbm'd {z=z\too2L\d^ 

cf Z. Z Z V 2 551 “ With hbbard’s head on knee ” Lumbert=^Lom- 
bard. * 

28 Exion Elsewheie (as in i above) we find action in the dame’s 
talk, but, as Claike lemaiks, this is m accoi dance with Shakespeaie’s 
mode of indicating these peculiarities of diction Cf Hen V p 162 note 
on PieaUt ^ 

30. A long one The hostess means to say that a handled maik is a 
long maih, that js, §tore, retlotmig, for hei to bear The use 6f ?nafk in 
the singular number in familiar language [cf pound 2.209 above! ad- 
niiN very well of this equivoque” (Douce). Theo. changed one to «loan ” 
but the debt was not wholly for money lent W leads “0V8?ii’V=6win’ 
01 owing) One was then pronounced like own ' 

33. off Pat off wtth fiilse excuses Fttb is the same woid as 

y^ii&=delude, tuck See Oth p 202 

36 Malnisey-nose, Cf red-nose in i Hen IV jv 2 51, and see our ed 
p r9l. Malmsey wine is mentioned in Z Z. Z v 2 2x1 and Rich III / 

44 Channel. Kennel, gutter 

• 47 Homicidal; as (and below) 

for man-killei or manslayer, is an archaism 
rather than a blundei See Macb p 181, note on Quell, Achilles calls 
Hector a “ boy-queller ” in T, and C v 5. 45 ^cmues cans 

Wouldst a provincial contraction Cf Ham v 1.298. 
Woo t weep ? woo’t fight etc For the second wooHthou ? the quarto 
has wot ta ? 1 he foho reads here “ Thou wilt not ? thou wilt not ?” 

« etc. This speech is given to Boy," in the quarto, and to 

whoTit probably ^ 



Ramfalhan is found as a term of leproach in B and F , Gieene, and 
other waters of the time. Fmtdartan^ which Schmidt is iitclined to con- 
nect with fuUian and Steevens with the Latin fustis, a club, is more piob- 
ably fiom fusty ^ as Malone and Nares give it Fustdiigs was a con- 
temptuous appellation for a veiy fat peison. Cf. Junius^ 1639 *‘You 
may daily see such fustilugs walking m the streets, like so many tuns, 
each moving on two pottlepots.” 

58 Good my loi be good to me. The same expiession occurs m M. 
for M ill. 2 203. favourable, piopitious 

60. What arc^ etc Why are, etc See on ind. 20 above. 

71 The mafe. That is, the nightmare 

73 Exclamation. Outcry against you See K. Johu^ p 150. 

77. Marry, if thou wert, etc Coleridge, m his Essay on Method, has 
given this speech as an example of the absence of method which chaiac- 
tenzes the uneducated, occasioned by an habitual submission of the un- 
derstanding to mere events and images as such, and independent of any 
power in the mind to classily or appropnate them. The general accom- 
paniments of time and place are the only relations which persons of this 
class appear to regaid in then statements ” 

78 Parcel-gdt. Part-gilt, or gilt on the embossed portions. Steevens 
quotes from the books of the Stationers* Company, in the list ot their 
plate, 1560 “ Item, nine spoynes of silver, whereof vn gylte and li par- 
cell-gylte.” The same records contain fifty instances to the same pur- 
pose; of these spoons the saint or other ornament on the handle was the 
only part^ilt Cf. B J , Alchemist: 

“or changing 

His parcel-gilt to massy gold ” 

Holipshed, describing Wolsey’s plate, says . “ and ^OuncU-cham- 
ber was all white and parcel-gilt plate ’* Langham 0T4 bride-cup 
that It ,was^ foormed of a sweet sucket barrel, a faire tikmed toot set too 
It, $.11 seemly besylvered and parcel-gilt ” Schmidt explains a parcel-gilt 
gobtet (the hyphen is not in the early eds.) as a goblet which was gilt, 
as must be spedistiJy, stated ” 

79. Dolphin^chamber. On the custom of giving names to partki0lar 
100ms in taveihs, see i Hen. IV p. 164, note on The Halfmoofu 

80. Wkeeson. Whitsun. The folio has “ Whitson but the corruption 
IS characteristic, like “ Peesel ” foi Pistol in u 4 126 below. 

81. Liking his father The folio has “bk’mng him.” Foi M<f=liken, 
cf, I Hen. VI. iv, 6 4S; “ And like me to the peasant boys of France.” 

84 Keech. The word meant a lump of fat rolled up by the butcher for 
the chandler. See i Hm IV. p. 166, note on Tdlom-catch. 

86. Mess, “ The common term for a small portion of any thing belong- 
ing to the kitchen ” (Steevens), Cf. Ofh. iv. i, 2ir . “X will chop her into 
messes ” 

90 So familiarity. The folio has “familiar,” 

109 Current. Genuine; suggested by the sterling precedes. 

Ill Sneap Snubbing, reprimand; the only instance of the noun m S. 
For the veib, see W. T. p. 149. 


i 62 


1 13 Make courtesy In Shakespeare’s day the form of obeisance 
known as courtesy or curtsy was used by men as well as women Cf 
E of L 1338. “The homely villain couit’sies to her low;” and see 
Muck Ado^ p 159, note on Courtesies. 

115 I do desire deliverance, etc “ Falstaff claimed the protection legal- 
ly called qma pi ofecturus (see Coke upon Littleton, 130 a). This is one of 
the many examples of Shakespeare’s somewhat intimate acquaintance 
with legal forms and phrases” (K ). 

1 18 In the effect of your reputation “In a manner suitable to your 
character” (Johnson)* 

13 1 Glasses, glasses, etc Steevens remarks “Mrs Quickly is here m 
the same state as the Earl of Shrewsbury, who, not having been paid for 
the diet, etc., of Mary Queen of Scots while she was in his custody, m 
1580, writes as tollows to Thomas Bradewyn * I wold have you bye me 
glasses to drink in * Send me word what olde plat yeldes the ounce, for 
I wyll not leve me a cuppe of sylvare to dunk, but I wyll see the next 
teime my creditors payde ’ ” 

132. Drollery. Apparently=a humorous painting (Schmidt). In Temp. 
iii. 3 21, It may have the same sense, or=a puppet-show, as Nares and 
D. explain it. 

The Prodigal. Cf M IV.iv $ S “ There ’s his chamber , . . ’t is painted 
about with the story of the Prodigal, fresh and new.” 

133. The German hunting “ Hunting subjects were much in favour for 

the decoration of interiors , and the chase of the wild boar in Germany 
would naturally form a spirited scene” (Clarke) Cf. Cymb n. 5, 16: 
“Like a full-acorn’d boar, a Geiman one.” In water-work^m water- 
colours This style of painting was done upon the walls (see Gentleman's 
Magazine, 1833, p 393), like the modem fiescos, and must not be con- 
founded with the “p^mted clo|h” hangings (see A. Y.L. p. 176), which 
were done in oil "" ^ 

134. Bed-hangings Falstaf^'t^lfs them so in contempt, as fitter to make 
curtains than to hang, walls (Totwison). Waib. wished to change bed to 
“ dead ” (=faded),’ 

136. Humours. "Caprices; as in ii. 3. 30 below- 

fYash thy face The poor dame has been crying, withdraw; 

as in 3 Hen. VI. v. t. 25, etc.' 

140 Nobles. The noble was a gold com, worth 6s. 8d. See Ruh. II. 
p. 219, note on Thanks, noble peer. 

153 Basingstoke The quarto has “Billingsgate.” 

169. Being you are. It being the case that you are, since you are. C£ 
Much Ado, IV. 1. 251 . “ Being that I flow m grief,” etc. 

1 76 Tap for tap. That is, tit for tat ; referring to his retaliation of the 
Justice’s inattention to his questions 

*77 Lighten. Enlighten, z&m Hen. VIII w 3 79: 

“a gem 

To lighten all this isle ” 

Vaughan thinks there may be a play on lighten, but the Chief-Justice is 
too much out of temper for a^pim here. See on 1. 2 172 above. 


Scene IT — i Before God. The folio substitutes “Tiust me,” as it 
omits Fatih m 4 just below 

3 Attached. Seized. Cf Temp 111. 3. 5 ** Who am myself attach’d 
with weariness.” 

4. Discolours the complextott^ etc That is, makes me blush. 

7 Studied ** Studious, intent, inclined ” (Schmidt)., d A and C.n 6. 
48 ** well studied foi a liberal thanks,” etc 

9 Belike “As it seems, I suppose” (Schmidt), as in M.N D 1. i. 
130, Nam 111 2. 149, 305, etc 

19 When thou keepest not racket there. “Showing that racket-p^ayeis 
usually played in their shirt-sleeves , so that when Master Poins’s stock 
of linen was woin out, he could not frequent the tennis-couit, because he 
could not take off his coat at the game ” (Clarke) On the cost of shuts 
in the poet’s time, see i Hen. TV 183, note on Ei^ht shillings an ell. 

21 Holland That is, Holland lme?i, with a play on the word. Cf. 
I Hen IV. Ill 3 82 The lemainder of this speech is omitted in the 

22 Baxvl out That is, bawl out fiom. Cf Cor v 2 4t “when you 
have pushed out your gates the defender of them ” The refeience is to 
Poins’s childien wrapped up m his old shuts 

32 Stand the push Stand the thrust See i Hen TV p. 180. 

34 Mai ry The quarto spells it “ Mary,” which was the origin of the 
oath, and the folio changes it to “Why.” 

39 The deviVs book. Alluding to the old belief that the devil had a 
register of the persons who were subject to him (Halliwell). 

40. Persistency. That is, in evil. S uses the woid nowhere else. 

43 Ostentation. Outwaidshow. Much Ado, 'p. 

52 Accties. Perhaps, as Schmidt considers it, a ihispiint for “ excites,” 
which the 3d folio substitutes. Accite (=:cite, summon) occuis in v, 2 141 
below; also m T A. i.t 21 

53 Lewd, Referring m a general wa^ to hi^^low tastes and associa- 
tions, not=licentious SQtiHenlVip.ijS. * 

54 Engraffed to. Attached to, intinmte with, ^^^enr&oted in iv i 207 

below h or gra.ft, see v. 3 2 below, and dimtsgraffed m M N D, 

1,1,137 ^ ^ ^ 

56, By this light. The folio changes This 'to “Nay,” and By the mass 
ih ^9 below to “ Looke, looke.” 

58 A proper fellow of my hands. “ A handsome fellow of my size ” 
(Mason). Cf W, T p 21 1, note on A tall fellow of iky hands. For pi oper^ 
see M, of V p 132, note on A proper man's picture. Cf. Heb. xi, 23. It 
would seem from the context that the term here implied something of 
contempt Vaughan remarks “ Possibly a proper man of his hands was 
a phrase often made use of to introduce qualifications discreditable to the 
object of them , as in Holinshed, for instance ‘ a good man of his hands 
(as we call him) but perveise of mind, and very deceitful.’ ” 

62. Transformed him ape. Elsewhere m S. the verb is followed by to or 

63. Most noble Bardolph. A spoitive re^notise. Cf. Af. of V ii g 
&nd Pick. II, V, 3-67. 



69 Redlattue An alehouse window Ct J/. ^ n 2 28 ‘‘youi led- 
1 ittice phrases^” that is, voui alehouse talk Tn a note on the lattei 
passage Stee\ens quotes The Misates 0/ Infoic'd Maniage^ 1607 “’t is 
tieason to the red lattne, enemy to the signpost ” Malone cites Biaith- 
waite, SUapado for the Dwell, 1615 “ Monsieur Bacchus, master-gunner 
of the pottle-pot oidnance, piime loundei ot led lattices,” and Douce 
adds, fiom the Blache Booke, 1604 “watched sometimes ten homes to- 
gethci m an ale house, ever and anon peeping forth, and sampling thy 
nose with the red Lattis ” 

pjofited Become proficient, that rs, under Falstaff’s training Cf 

Temp I 2 172 ic j u 

' “and here 

Ha\e I, thy schoolmastei, made thee more profit 
Than other pnneess can *’ 

See also M. W i 15, T of S iv 2 6, etc 

75 Altheed's dtetwi S. heie confounds Althaea’s fiiebrand with Hecu- 
ba’s (Johnson) The foimer is coiiectly referied to in 2 Hen* VI 1 i 
234 “As did the fatal brand Althaea burn’d ” Claike believes that the 
poet intended that the boy should blundei ; but it is more likely that he 
was forgetful himself 

81. Cankers* Canker-worms, as in M N D \\ 2 3 “Some to kill 
cankeis in the musk-rose bud& ” See oui ed p 150. 

89 Mattlemas* Maitinmas, or the feast ot bt Mai tin, the iith of No- 
vember, It was consideied the close of autumn, and the word may heie 
have the same significance as “All-hallown summer” in i Hen IV 1 2 
I '7$ (see our ed p 146) “ But,” as Claike remarks, “ there are so many al- 
lusions to * Maitlemas beef’ in writers of Shakespeaie’s time — Martinmas 
being the season for salting, smoking, and hanging beef as wmtei pio\is- 
lon — that it IS very likely Pi nice Hal’s name of Maitlemas for bii John 
may include this meaning also, since he elsewhere calls him ‘ my sweet 
betp^i Hen 3 199).” 

93 T/ns wen, “This swoln excrescence of a man ” (Johnson) 

100 BorioweVs, The early eds have “borrowed ” The emendation 
is due to Warb , who lemarks “ a man that goes to bouow money is of 
all others the most complaisant , his cap is always at hand.” Cf T, of A, 

“Importune him for my moneys, be not ceas’d 
With slight denial, nor then sdenc’d when — 

‘Commend me to your master^ — and the cap 
Plays m the right hand, thus but tell him 
My uses cry to me,” etc 

Halil well letains “boi lowed,” and some anonymous critic has suggested 
that die reference is to “capping veises »” Cf Hen V 111 7 124. 

108. Romans Waib changed this to “ Roman,” supposing th^ refer- 
ence to be to Marcus Biutus; and others have thought that Julius Cae- 
sar IS meant. 

1 19 Twenty, Warb sagely aslvs . “ Why just twenty, when the letter 
contained above eight times twenty?” This is as good in its way as 
Judge Holmes’s putting the use of iwe?ity as an “expletive ” among his 


“ parallelisms ” of expression m Bacon and Shakespeare (see his Aitihat- 
ship of S 322). 

bteevens says “Robert Green, the pamphleteer, indeed, obliged an 
appaiitor to eat his citation, wax and all. In the play of Sir John Old- 
castle^ the Summer i& compelled to do the like, and says on the occasion, 
*X ’ll eat my woid’ Haipoole replies, ‘I meane you shall eate more 
than your own woid, P 11 make you eate all the words in the processe ’ ” 

12% Frank Sty Nares quotes Lenton, char 15 “feed at ease, 
like a boare in a frank ” 

13 1 Ephesians “Jolly companions ” (Schmidt), a cant term of that 
day, like Corinthian in i Hen IV, 11, 4. 13, Cf M W, iv. 5 » 19 
thine host, thine Ephesian, calls.” 

146. Bestow, Deport, behave. QL A F Z iv 3 87, N, John^ m i. 
225, etc 

148 Leathern jeikins. Commonly worn by vintners. See i Hen, IV 
P 164. 

150. Declension, Decline, degradation Cf Rick HI lii 7 189 and 
Ham 11 4 149. The quarto has “ descension,” a woid not found else- 
where in S 

Scene IIX — i. Pntkee, The quarto has “ pray thee ” 

1 1 Endeared Bound , as in 7 ! of A, 1 2 233 and ni 2. 36. 

12 Hearfs dear. The quaito has “heaits deere Hairy,” the folio 
“ heart-deere- Harry ” Some editors print “ heart-dear ” 

14 Long, Theo. substituted “ look.” 

17 For, As for, as regards , especially common at the beginning of a 
sentence. Cf. Ham, 1 2 112, 1. 5. 139, etc Gr 149. 

The God of heaven. Changed in the folio to “ may heavenly glory ” 

19 Grey Explained by some as —blue. Cf R andj p. 169 (note on 
Grey-eyed) and p 192, foot-note 

21. TheglasSf etc. Cf Ham iii. 1. 161 : “The glass of fashion and the 
mould of form Hen V 11. chor. 6 : “the minor of all Christian kings” 
(see our ed p. 152), etc. 

23-45. He had , , grave Omitted in the quarto 

24 Speaking thick, “Speaking fast” (Steevens and Schmidt) Cf. 
Cymb, 111. 2. 58 • “ say, and speak thick and R of L, 1784 . 

“ Weak words, so thick come in his poor heart’s aid 
That no man could distinguish what he said,” 

See I Hen IV p 149. 

25 Became the accents of the valiant Came to be the utterance of all 
brave men. The plural accents is after the manner of S when refeinng 
to more than one person. See Macb, p 209 (note on Loves), or Rich, II, 
p. 206 (note on Sights), and cf. 55 just below See also iv i. 193 below. 
Schmidt eicplams became as=adorned, ivas an ornament to. Valiant xs 
here a trisyllable See on ind 26 above. 

26, Low, Seymour conjectures “slow.” Taidilyhvoms the expla- 
nation of 24 above. 

30. Humoms of Mood, Caprices of disposition. See on ii i. 136 
above, and cf. iv. 4 38 below. 



31. Glass, copy and hook. See on 21 above, and cf also R ofL 61$ • 

“ For prmce'% are the glass, the school, the book. 

Where subjects’ eyes do learn, do read, do look.” 

36 ^h/dc. Meet the penis of 

38 Defensible Not capable cf defence, but fni inshtng the means of de- 
{Malone). Cf Or 3 

45 BesJne^oj A mild form of impiecation. See A/ N Z? p 152 
47 Ancient Foimer, bygone. Cf T of S md 2 33 “ thy ancient 

thoughts Cb/, IV I 3 “your ancient courage,” etc 

51 Tdl that Foi that ai> a “conjunctional affix,” see Gr 283. 

52. Puissance A dissyllable heie See on 1 3 9 above. 

57 So sufftdd. Allowed thus to try his single stiength 
59 Remembrance Clarke (following Warb ) believes that the meta- 
phor of a plant was suggested by rosemary, vihich, as a symbol of re- 
membrance, was used at marriages and funerals ” See Ham p 250, 
note on Rosemary 

61. For recordation to. In memory of, Cf, T and C v 2. 116 

“ To make a recordation to my soul 
Of every syllable that here was spoke," 

that is, to recall to mind every s\ liable, etc, 

64 Still-stamL Standstill , the only instance of either word in S 

Scene IV. — i The dennl Omitted in tne folio, like Mass just below. 
Appieyokns A kind of apple, which kept two years, but became wrin- 
kled and shrivelled See i Hen IV 111 3 5 , “ withered like an old 
apple-john,” The French called it deux-ans Steevens quotes Cogan, 
Haven of Health, 1595 “The best apples that we have in England aie 
pepins, deusants, costards, darlings, and such other and Hakluyt, Voy- 
ages “ the apple John that duieth two yeaies ” 

S. Cover. Lay the table , ^%vsx M. of V 111 5 57 and A K Z 11 5 33 
9 Noise Band of musicians See Mach p 233 
to Some music The speech ends heie in the folio The quarto adds 
“ Dispatch the room where they supped is too hot ; they ’ll come in 
straight ” Clarke remarks • “ This shows that the apple-johns and the 
prepaied table v\ere for w'hat w?as called an afiei -supper, a repast of fiuit 
and wine, like the modem dessert, and which was fiequently taken in a 
different room fiom that m which the more substantial meal was eaten ” 
Rere-suppei (or 7 ear-supper) and rere-banquet also=dessert 

15. Old utis Great fun, rare spoit For old as an intensive see Mach. 
p i<yt,ox Muck Ado,^ 169 Cf the modern slang phrase, “a high old 
tune.” merriment , from the Fi. kuit as applied to the octave of a 

festival, or the eighth day after it. 

23 Canaries. That is, Canary wine ; mentioned also m M W. lii 2. 
89 and 7 ’ jV 1. 3 85, 88 What Mrs Quickly means by canaries m M W 
11 2. 61 IS not so deal Quandary has been suggested, but S. does not 
use the word. 

28 When Aithur first m court The ballad may be found in Percy’s 
Rehques. The lines theie are 



“ When Arthur fitst in court began, 

And was approved king ” 

31. Calm, Qualm , though, as W. remaiks, the two words were pro- 
nounced alike in the time of S. 

32, Sea, If Mrs Quickly had used the word, we should have no doubt 
that she meant sex , but 111 FahtafiPs mouth it may be=class. Steevens 
gives sundry examples of sec£ = sex; as Maiston, Iftsattate CmmUss* 
“ Deceives our sect of fame and chastity B and F , Valenttman ** The 
purest temple of her sect,” etc. On the other hand, in Mother Bombte^ 
1594, a couitesan says “1 am none of that sect,” which is followed by 
the lejoinder *‘Thy loving sect is an ancient sect, and an honourable,” 
etc. Douce remarks • ** Falstaff means to say that all courtesans, when 
their trade is at a stand, are apt to be sick.” 

36. Rascals. The woid rcLscal literally meant a cleei in poor condition. 
See A KZ. p. 179. “He tells hei she calls him wiong, being he 
cannot be a rascal'^ (Johnson) 

41. RhetmatiL, Perhaps for “splenetic,” as has been suggested. 
Rheum and spleen were sometimes confounded , as in B J., Every Man 
tn his Humour^ where Cob says, “ Nay, I have my rheum^ and can be 
angry as well as anothei to which Cash replies, “ Thy rheum, Cob ! 
thy humour, thy humour ; thou mistak’st” “ The mutual asperities of 
two diy toasts when brought in contact with each other aie sufficiently 
obvious to render Quickie’s simile less ridiculous than is her general 
style of diction ” (Clarke) 

42. The good-year. Probably a corruption of gouj^re^ or the pox.^ Cf, 
Much AdOf p. 126 

48. Ancient, Ensign. See Hen, V p 154. “Falstaff was captain, 
Peto lieutenant, and Pistol ensign, or anctenV^ (Johnson) 

51. Zf ts. Contemptuous, Cf hi 2. 244 below. See also Hen V, iii. 
6. 70, R, and J iv 2. 14, etc. Foi a different use of the phrase, see Macb, 
p. 168 

53 Swaggerers, Bullies ; Ritson quotes Cooke, Gteefte's Tn Quoque • 
“drinke with a dmnkard, be cmill with a citizen, fight a swaggerei,” etc. 
See also A, Y, L, iv 3. 14 • “play the swaggerer,” 

62 Ttlly-fally, Tilly- vally ; a contemptuous exclamation, for which 
see T, N, p. 137. 

74. A tame cheater, A cant phrase=.a petty rogue, a low gamester. 
Steevens cites B and F , Emr Maid of the Inn “ By this decoy-duck, 
this tame cheater.” Mis Quickly takes it to mean escheator (vulgaily 
called cheater) or officer of the exchequer. 

76. A Barbary hen, A fowl whose feathers aie naturally ruffled. In 
A, K L, IV. I- 151 we find mention of “a Barbaiy cock-pigeon ” 

94. Compamon, Used contemptuously, as fellow is now. See M. N, 
D p 125 

98, Bung A cant name for a sharper, or pickpocket Nares quotes 
An Age for Apes, 1655 

“ My bung observing thi*?, takes hold of time, 

Just as this lord was dmwing for a prime, 

And smoothly ilims his purse that lay beside him.” 



The word was also applied, m the thieves’ dialect, to a pocket or puise. 
To nip a bung was to cut a puise 

100 Cuttle A slang teim for the knife used b> cut-purses 

lor Since when, Q\.c A scoffing iiiquuy. Cf i Ben, JV ^ 157, note 
on Ay when ? canst tell ^ 

102 Ttvo points “ As a mark of bis commission ” (Johnson). See 
on 1 I 53 above The ioho, as usual, omits the oath in this and the next 

106 Nq more, etc. This speech is found only m the qiiai to 

1 14 Mouldy stewed prunes, ^tc Steived pi unes,\s\\^x\ mouldy, vitr& 
peihaps toimerly sold at a cheap rate, as stale pies and cakes are at pies- 
ent ” (Steevens) 

115 Will make the word captatn odious. The folio reading , the quarto 
has “will make the woid as odious as the woid occupy, which was an 
excellent good word before it w'as ill soited , therefore captains had need 
look to It ” Occupy had come to have an indecent sense in the time of 
S. B, Jr in his Dis'covei zes says , “ Many out of their own obscene appie- 
hensions refuse propel and fit words, as ouupy, natuze, and the like.” 

125, Faziozs, ^ The quaito has “faters,” the folio “Fates.” Faztors, 
according to Minsheu’s , is a con option of the Yx.fai^eurs^factoz es, 

doers , and it is used in a statute of the time of Richaid II for evzl-doers 
(Toilet). Spensei uses it m the sense of traitoi , villain , as in A ^ 1 4 47 ; 

** By this false faytor, who unwortiue ware 
His wortbie shield,” ^ 

and Id, IV. I 44 “ False faitour, Scudamour,” etc 

Have we not Htren here ? A lost play by George Peele was entitled 
The Turkish Mahomet and Hyren the Fair Greek, fiom which this is prob- 
ably a quotation, Steevens quotes the old comedy of Law Tucks, i6o8 : 

“What ominous news can Polymetes daunt? 

Have we not Hiren here?” 

Massinger’s Old Law 

“ Clown No dancing for me, we have Siren here 
Cook, Siren » H was Hiren, the fair Greek, man 

and Delcker, Satiromastix “whilst we have Hiren here, speak, my little 
dish-washeis ” Biren is a corruption of Irene, Pistol applies it to his 
swoid, but Mrs. Quickly supposes him to be in($uiimg for some woman. 

127 Beseek, Intended as a blunder for beseech, though it is really an 
old form and pronunciation of that word. See Wb. under beseech and 
beseek, Cf Chaucer, C T, 918 “ “But we biseken mercy.” 

, 129. Ami hollow, etc. Pistol’s misquotation of Marlowe’s Tmnhur^ 
Imne, 2d Part, iv. 4 ; ^ 

“ Holla, ye pamper’d jades of Asia I 

Whatt can ye draw but twenty miles a day?” 

13 1. Cannibals For Hanziihals. 

133. Let the welkin roar, Steevens finds the expression in two ballads 
of the time 

134. Toys, Trifles. See M N,D p 179, or Ham, p 247, 

143 Then feed, etc. A burlesque of The Battle of Akazaz^ 1594, in 



winch Muley Mahomet enters to his wnfe with lion’s flesh on his swoicf, 
and says “ Feed then, and faint not, my faire Calypolis and again, 
Hold thee, Calipohs ; feed, and faint no more and again “ Feed and 
be fat, that we may meet the foe,” etc (Steevens). 

145 St forhine^ etc As punted in both quarto and folio, except that 
the latter has “contente ” Johnson says , “Sir Thomas Hanmei reads 
Si fortuna me toimenta, il speiare me contenta — which is undoubtedly 
the true reading , but peihaps it was intended that Pistol should conupt 
It ” Some editors read “sperato ” Faimer lemarks* “Pistol is only a 
copy of Hannibal Gonsaga,who vaunted on yielding himself a prisoner, 
as you may read in an old collection of tales, called Wits, Fits, and Fan- 

‘ Si fortuna me tormenta, 

II speranza me contenta 

Couect Italian would lead “ Se ” for “ Si ” and “ La ” foi “ II ” {speran- 
sa being feminine). The meaning of the couplet is, “It foitune toiments 
me, hope contents me.” Douce gives an illustiation of a sword with a 
French veision of the motto, “Si foitune me tourmente, I’esp^rance me 
contente ” 

148 Come we to full point?, etc “ That is, shall we stop here, shall 
we have no fuither enteitainment^” (Johnson). Theie is a play on 
points, as Schmidt and Clarke note 

150 Neif Fist, also spelt neaf Qi M IT D iv. i. 20 (Bottom’s 
speech) “ Give me thy neif and see our ed. p. 172 

1 5 1. The seven stars. The Pleiades. See i Hen p. 142 
153. Fustian. Nonsensical, used again as an adjective m T N 11 5. 
1 19 : “ A fustian riddle I” 

' Galloway nags. “That is, common hackneys” (Johnson). The 
Galloway horses were a small and inferior breed 

156 Quott him. Pitch him , the only instance of the verb in S., as 
206 below IS the only one of the noun Shove-groat was a game similar 
to shovel-boai d, but on a smallei scale. It was played on a boaid or ta- 
ble, three or four feet long and about a foot wide, with a diagiam on one 
end divided into nine partitions marked with the nine digits The com 
(at first the silver groat, afterwards the shilling) was shoved or slid from 
the other end of the board, the aim being to land it in one of the num- 
bered spaces. Cf B. J , Eveiy Man in his Huniow, ni 5; “run as 
smooth off the tongue as a shove-groat shilling and The Roaring Girl 
“and away slid my man, like a shovel-board shilling ” See also M, W, 
i I 159 * “ and two Edward shovel -boards, that cost me two shillings and 
twopence apiece” Tayloi the Watei Poet calls the game shove-boaid, 
and in a note he says that Edward VI shillmgs were then generally used 
in playing it He makes one of these coins say • 

“ You see my face is beaidles'se, smooth, and plaine, 

Because my soveraigne -was a child is knowne. 

When as he did put on the Enghsh crowne, 

But had my stamp beene bearded, as with haire, 

Long before this it had beene worue out bare, 

For why, with me the unthnfts everjr day, 

With my face downward, do at shove-board play 



160. Tmh? ue Thisbe also uses the woi A\\\M N Come, 

blade, my bieast imbrue.” 

i6i Then deaths etc. Steevens says that this is a fiagment of a song 
supposed to have been wiitten by Anne Boleyn . 

O death rock me on slepe. 

Bring me on quiet rest,’^ etc 

Reed adds, fiom Arnold Cosbids UlHmum Vale to the Vatne Wofid, an 
elegie ‘Written by himself e in the Marshalsea^ after hts condemnation^ for 
mw titering Lord Brooke^ I 59 l • 

“ O^deatli, rock me asleepel Father of heaven. 

That hast sole power to pardon sinnes of men, 

Forgive the faults and follies of my youth ’* 

163 Atropos The Sisters Three are apostrophized by Thisbe in M 
N D, V. t. 343 , and in the same speech she alludes to the ** shears ” of 
Atropos^ but^the name of the goddess occuis m S only in the piesent 

t64. Toward At hand, in preparation. Cf. M N D ih i 81 * “ What I 
a play toward and see our ed p. 156 

169 Tin its, Mrs, Quickly’s own word, and prdbzhly = terrors'^ 

17s Shrewd, Evil, mischievous. See Hen, VIIL p 202, or y, C. p 

145 - 

182, Chops Poms applies the same epithet to Falstaff in i ffen. IV, 
L2 151 • “You will, chops?” 

184 The Nine Worthies These were commonly said to be three Gen- 
tiles Hector, Alexander, Julius Caesar , thiee Jes\s Joshua, David, Ju- 
das Maccabaeus; and three Christians Arthui, Chailemagne, Godfiey 
of Bduilion In L. L. L.v i 125 fol and v. 2. 486 fol Pompey and Hei - 
cules are reckoned among the nine. 

190. Quukstlver Used as a simile for swiftness in the only other in- 
stance of the word in S., Ham 1. 5 66 : “ swift as quicksilver ” 

192. Tidy, The word occurs nowheie else in S, and its meaning 
here is disputed It means fat in a passage from an old translation of 
Galateo on Manners and Behaviour, 1578, cited by Reed ; and Gawin 
Douglas uses it in the same sense in his Virgil, It was somet 5 mes=nim- 
ble, agile, and Malone believes that to be the meaning here. 

Roast pig was one of the attractions of Bartholomew Fair, “ A more 
appropriate image for repiesentmgthe appearance of the rotund Falstaff, 
hot, glistening, reeking, from his encounter with the pestiferous Pistol, 
could hardly be devised ” (Clarke) 

193, Foimng Thrusting. See on 11 i 16 above. 

199. Pantler The servant who had charge of the pantry Cf W, T, 
iv. 4 56 . “ This day she was both pantler, butler, cook,” etc _ . « 

202. Tewksbury mustard. “Tewksbury is a maiket-town in the county 
of Gloucester, formerly noted foi mustaid-balls made theie and sent into 
other parts ” (Grey). 

Z06, Conger, A kind of eel. 'Fox fennel, Ham 2^1 “The fen- 

nel was perhaps used as a dressing for the confer, as parsley is now for 

17 * 


other fish” (WO Beisly says it was used f 

tion ” Why the dish is mentiSiied has not been 

207. Flanagans, -A flap^dragon is some small combust bk body, 
fired at one end, and put afloat m a glass of Iiquoi. It ^ a 
toper’s dexterity to toss off the glass in such a 

flap-dragon from doing mischief” (Johnson), f a]h^> /? . /. p. Iho. 

^ Rides the wild maie Plays at see-saw (Schmidt). or 

joint-stools^ weie a kind of folding-chair, Cf I iRiu /f . u. 4. 4I0 and A, 

20^ sfgn. That is, a sign over the shop-door of a boot-maker (J. H,). 

Breeds no bate, etc. “ Ci eates no disturbance by telling stones; 
the mfeience being that, in the company frequented by tne Fi ince and 
Poms, indecent stones would be preferred, and decent ones lesented as 
inappropriate” (Clarke). Warb wanted to change disaea to indis- 
creet” Foi bate (=contention), cf the Countess of Fembioke s Antomus * 

“Shall «ver civil bate 
Gnaw and devoui our taste 

and Mirror for Magistrates “ She set my brothei first with me at bate.” 
The word occurs elsewhere in S only m the compounds hate-b-i eedmg (in 
V and A. 655 “this bate-breeding spy ”) and bned-bate\\\\M. IV, i. 4- 
12 “no tell-tale nor breed-bate”) Cf make-bate in The Countess of 
Pembroke's Arcadia “ So that love m her passions, like a right make- 
bate, whispered to both sides arguments of quarrel,” Stanyqurst, m his 
traiialation of Virgil, calls Erinnys a make-bate, 

215 Nave of a wheel. Alluding to “Sir John’s combined knavery 
and rotundity ” (Clarke). 

220. Satm n and Venus^ etc “ This was, indeed, a prodigy. The as- 
trologeis, says Ficinus, 'remark that Satuin and Venus are never con- 
joined ” (Johnson) 

223. Fiery Trigon A irtsfon is a triangle. The astrologeis divided the 
zodiacal signs into four trigons or U ipltcihes * one consisting of the three 
fiery signs (Aries, Leo, and Sagittarius) , the others, respectively, of three 
airy, three watery, and three earthy signs. When the three superior 
planets were m the three fiery signs they formed a fiery trigon ; when m 
Cancer, Scorpio, and Pisces, a watery one, etc. 

223. Lisping to his master's old tables This is apparently = making 
love to his master’s old mistiess. Steevens says: “Bardolph was very 
probably drunk, and might hsp a little in his courtship , or he might as- 
sume an affected softness of speech, like Chaucer’s Frere: 

‘Somewhat he lisped for his wantonnesse, 

To make his English swete upon his tonge.'” 

Malone remarks that lisping is “ saying soft things,” and compares M. PK 
111 3. 77 . “ Come, I cannot cog and say thou art this and that, like a 
many of these lisping hawthorn-buds, that come like women in men’s ap- 
parel, and smell like Buckleisbury in simple time ; I cannot: bnt I love 
thee,” eta For lisping to Hanmer gave “ clasping too,” and Farmer con- 
jectured “ licking too.” CoIL suggests “ clipping to,” and Vaughan 
** lipping too,” 



For /fy^/fjjrrtable-book, or memorandum-book, see Nam. p 197 

225 Busses. Uhe only instance of the noun m S For the veib, see 
K John^ p 160. 

230 Kirtk A garment conceining which the commentators have 
much disputed. See nea’-ly two pages on the subject in the Var of 1S21. 
It seems to ha\e been made sometimes like a petticoat, sometimes like 
an apron, sometimes like a tunic, sometimes like a cloak Schmidt de- 
fines It as “ a jacket, with a petticoat attached to it and the kalf-kirt^e 
(^ee V 4 16 below) as either the jacket 07 the petticoat attached 1 he 
words occuT nowhere else in S We find kntU m P. P 363, but the song 
3s Marlowe’s, not Shakespeaie’s. 

236 Hcarkeu the eiid. The quarto has “ a’ the end,” and some modern 
eels read “ at the end ” The meaning seems to be “ wait, and judge when 
all IS done ” Schmidt is doubtiul whether it means this or “listen to the 
end of the piece of music ” For another peculiar use of hearktu^ see 
I IV p 201 

238 A 7 io 7 t, a 7 i 07 i. Sir. The usual answer of the drawers. See i Hen IV. 
p 164. 

240. Poms hts h other. Ritson explains this &7 other (see 

Gr. 217), and the editors generally adopt the interpretation. It may be 
the right one, but it seems to us that there is quite as humorous a sarcasm 
in calling Poms the Prince’s broihe 7 \ 

241 Continents Pi obably used as carrying out the metaphor in 
Clarke explains it zs^contents, with a play on continence 

250. By this light flesh, etc Rov\e added heie the stage direction, 
“ Leaning kts hand upon Doll ” 

254 Take not the heat That is, strike while the iron is hot (Steevens 
and Schmidt) Ci.Lear,\ 1,312 “ We must do something, and i the 
heat ” Clarke makes the expression =“ get the start of him, get ahead 
of him ” Cf W T.^ 120, note on Heat 

255 Candle-mtne Mine or magazine of tallow. 

261 When yon ran away, etc. See i Hen IV 11 4. 295 fol. 

280 To close With us. In order to make your peace with us Cf. J. C. 
111. 1, 202 

“ It would become me better than to dose 
In tenns of fnendslup with thine enemies.” 

See also W T.iv ^ 830 • " Close with him [make terms with him], give 
him gold,” etc. 

284. Dead elm Poms calls him so “perhaps on account of the weak 
support which he had gi\en to Doll” (Schmidt) Cf the only other in- 
stances of elm in S • C of E.\\ 2 1^6 and M N. D iv, i 49 

285. Pneked down Marked down. Cf lii 2 103, 107, 125, 133, etc. 

287, Malt-worms Ale-topers See i Hen IV p 158. 

291 Burns, poor soul. That is, with disease The early eds have 
“ burns poor souls corrected by Hanmer. Coll, and the Camb. ed 
retain the old text. 

296 Contrary to the law. Several statutes of the time of Elizabeth 
and James I forbade victuallers to furnish flesh during Lent, 



■ao'? Hts<^}ace Falstaff plays upon the word ^ ? 

am Atfoor A contraction still in piovinci^ use, accoidmg to CjarU. 
Ba^rdolph also uses it in 323 below , but Falstaff {320) says at the d 

^^314 ^The south The south wind See A K X p 183, note on Foggy 

Borns. “ Laden, charged, fieighted ” (Clarke) 

318 7 he sweetest tfto) set of the mght. Cf v 3 49 below , now comes 

111 the sweet o’ the night ” ?« nn/l 

334 Fcascod-tmie The time of yeai when peas aie in pod bee 

Ltan Hester and a Irster - hea, ted man- “These valedictoiy 
wolds (nrinted also in the folio wnth a dash, to indicate a broken speech, 
as if unkmshed fi om incapacity to express all she feels 
teied bv hostess Quickly aftei neaily thiity yeais experience of Sir John s 
honesty and trutMei ve bettei than pages of commentaiy upon his poweis 
of fascination, to show how stiong is the spell he exercises upon &- 

inent and affections of those with whom he associates Ihe hostess s 
blind idolativ, Bardolph’s toughly woishipping attachment (as seen 
Hcmy V) toim the handsomest excuse foi the bewitchment with which 

the Pi ince seeks his society” (Claike) 

340 iShe eomes blubbered^ The quarto reads • “come shee comes 
Wffibeid, yea ? wil you come Doll The speech the folio is simply. 
Host Oh lunne Doh runne* lunne, good Dot B was 
see here that a stage-diiection (as not unfrequently happened) had got 
into the text Coll retains the words in the text, supposing them to be 
addressed to Baidolph m explanation of Doll s delay in coming I* or 
blubbered, cf R. and % 111 3 87 “ Blubbeung and weeping 

ACT in 

Scene I — ^The whole scene is omitted 111 some copies of the qnaito 

^^ 2 ^ 0 W-read Read over, peinse , as in 81 * 4 >ao<i 

Leal,' 2 38 So aver-i ead m M /or M iv 2 212 Cf 36 below. 

% Consider Often followed by ek as here Cf /for K ii. 4 113. “*• 
6 133, 7 Cm 2 i 75. etc . « w,„i„ 

II Night-jlies The quarto reading , the folios have Night flyes 
\e, Sound The folios hat e “ sounds ” 

17 A watch-case A sentiy-box Hanmer says This alludes to 
the watchman set in gariison-towns on some eminence, attending “Pen 
an alaium-bell, which was to ring out m case of fire or any approachin^^ 
danger ” Clarke adopts Holt White’s explanation, which makes it lefei 
to an alaim-watch or clock 

Larum is the uniform spelling m S , not ‘‘ lai um, as usually ^ 
modern eds Alarum also occurs, as in Heu I iv 6 35, etc for the 
verb, see Macb p 187. 

2 74 


,19 Skip-hoy's The word is found also in K John^ iv 3. 4 and Hm V 
in choi 8 Cf shtpman in Macb 1 3 17, etc 

24, Clamouf, The folios have “clamois” Cf on 14 above For 
clottds. Pope substituted “ shrouds ” The clouds seem to be called shppeiy 
as not being able to retain the billows thrown up to them (Steevens) 

25 That. So that bee on 1 i 197 above For hurly {=tumult), cf 
K John, in 4 169 “ I see this huily all on foot,” etc. 

28 Most stillest Foi double comparatives and supeilatives m S., see 
Gr. II Cf IV. 5 201 below 

30 Then^ happy low, he down ' The quaito reads “then (happy) low 
he downe the tolio “ Then happy Lowe, l>e downe ” Johnson adopt- 
ed Warburton’s conjecture of “ happy lowly clown and K follows Cole- 
ridge’s “Then, happy low-lie-down As Steevens remarks, the sense 
seems to be . “ You who aie happy in your humble situations, lay down 
your heads to lest ’ the head that weais a crown lies too uneasy to expect 
such a blessing ” 

Is it ^ood morrow^ Is it morning^ Cf R and y.p. 143, note on 
Is the day so young ^ 

35 All. Again applied to two persons in 2 Hen. VI. ii 2. 26 “ as all 
you know,” etc. 

41 If IS hut as a body yet distempeVd It is as yet only a body disoi- 
dered, or out of health. For transpositions oiyet, see Gr. 76, and for 
distempered. Ham p. 229 

43 Little. That is, a little See 7 * p 164 

50 Ocean. A trisyllable 5 as in 7 * 6^. ^ F" 11 7. 32, IC John, ii i 340, 
etc. See on ind. 26 above. 

On the passage, cf. Sonu. 64. 5 “ When I have seen the hungry ocean 
gam,” etc. 

53-56, O, tf this . . . and die. Omitted in the folios, where the imper- 
fect line 'Tts not ten years gone fills out 53 W. remarks of the lines . 
“ If S. ever wrote them, I believe that he omitted them because of their 
weakness 5 but I more than doubt that he did write this feeble whine, 
which seems all the feebler because it is made the needless sequent of the 
manly and majestic aspiration that precedes it ... It is a squaie block 
of pulitig commonplace let into a grand and vigorous passage ” 

64. Th-A* ^es. ‘ IV th^ face ; as in M. for M.w. 1.161 . “ Her shall 
you hear disproyed,to her’^ye&” Cf. Id. 1 1.69. 

65. Bui which of you, etc. " “ Ite refers to Rich. II iv, 2 ; but whether 
the king’s or the author’s memoiy fails him, so it was, that Warwick was 
not present at that conversation ” (Johnson). 

66 Neznl. As Steevens notes, the earldom of Warwick was then in 
the family of Beauchamp, and did not come into that of the Kevils till 
many years after, m the latter part of tlie reign of Henry VI., when it de- 
scended to Anne Beauchamp (the daughter of the earl here introduced), 
who was married to Richard Nevil, Earl of Salisbury, 

67. Eve bfimful. The quarto prints “eye-bnmme full,” and the folio 

& Check’d. Reproved. See on i. 2 183 above 

72. Had no such intent, etc, “ He means *7 should have had no such m- 



tent, but that necessity,’ etc. , or S has here forgotten his former play, or 
has chosen to make Henry foiget his situation at the time mentioned. 
He had then actually accepted the crown ” (Malone). Cf. Rich. II iv. i. 

1 13 “ In God’s name, I ’ll ascend the regal throne ” 

74 To kiss. Cf. A fV 1.1 238 “ To join like likes, and kiss like native 
things ” 

75. Shall come. Changed by Johnson to “will come,” to correspond 
with the next line. Clarke remarks “The piesent forms a notable in- 
stance of that purposed variation in repeated phrases that S. occasionally 
gives with so much naturalness of effect. Heie the variation occurs in a 
repeated sentence uttered by the self-same speaker, and one following 
immediately upon the other , but m repeating it he vanes one word of it, 
just as persons do in actual life, and just as Shakespeare’s people do.” 

85. Intreasured. Laid up. Cf eritreasured in Per 111 2 65 

86. Hatch. Cf. Ham 111 i. 174 “the hatch and the disclose,” etc. 

87. This. Johnson conjectuied “things but this is used in a geneiai 
way, referring to “this history of the times deceased ” (Henley) or “the 
instance which the king has been recounting of Northumbei land’s pie- 
vious conduct” (Claike) 

98 Please tt May it please. See on 1. 1. 5 above, and cf Much Ado, 
p 121, or Gr 349. 

103 Instance Proof. Cf iv i 83 below. See also Much Ado^ p 135. 

105. Unseasoned Unseasonable; as in M. W .\\.2 174 “this unsea- 
soned intrusion.” Cf Gr 375 Foi perforce^ see on i, i. 165 above. 

Scene II —3. Rood Cross, crucifix See Hafn. p 235, 

7 Ousel. Blackbird , 2&\\\ M N D 111 i. 128* “The ousel cock so 
black of hue ” There it is spelt “ woosel ” in the early eds , as it is here 
in the quarto. “ Master Silence speaks with mock-modest disparage- 
ment of his pretty dark-haiied daughter” (Clarke) 

13. Mad Madcap, merry ; as in 28 below Cf I Hen IV. p, 191 

18. Cotswold man. The quarto has “ Cotsole man,” and the ist foho 
“ Cot-sal-man both which indicate the common pronunciation of the 
word. Cotswold was celebrated in the poet’s time for athletic sports and 
the skill of the natives therein. Cf Rich. 11 . p. 184. 

19 Swinge-bucklers Roisterers. See i Hen. IV. p 154, not^ on Swoid^ 
and-bucklet\ Swash-bucklers was used Jin, the same sense. Steevens 
quotes Nash, addiessing Gabriel Harvey, 1598 • '‘'‘^Turpe senex mtlesj ’t is 
time for such an olde foole to leave playing the swash -buckler.” Cf. 
swashers in Hen. V 111 2 30. 

21. Page to Thomas Mowbray, etc. One of the points of evidence that 
Falstaff was originally called Oldcastle m i and 2 Henry IV., Sir John 
Oldcastle having actually been in his youth page to the Duke ofNoifolk. 
S^QiHen.IV.^ 10.’ 

24. Saw. The folio reading ; the quarto has “ see.” 

25. Skogan's head. There were two noted persons of the name, the one 
a poet and the other a jester, and there has been much controversy as to 
which of them is here referred to. - John Scogan, “being an excellent mim- 
ick, and of great pleasantry in conversation, became the favourite buffoon 



of the court of King Edward IV” (Warton) Henry Scogan, the poet, 
IS described by Ben Jonson, in The Fortunate Isks, as 

fine gentleman, and master of arts 
Of Henry the Fouith s times, that made disguises 
Foi the km^s sons, and writ in ballad royal 
Daintily well ” 

A book of “ Scogm’s Jests” was published by Andiew Borde in 1565, 
and may have suggested the name to Shakespeaie The subject is dis- 
cussed to the extent ofneaily three pages in the Var of 1821 

CracL “A peit little boy” (Schmidt). Cf. Cor 1 3 741 

“ Valeria Indeed, la, ’t is a noble child 
“ Vtrgtlia A crack, madam.” 

32 How Of etc How ^0 a, or how sett a, etc. Cf. 43 below, and the 
answer to the question 

40 Clapped the clout Hit the white mark in the target C{ L L L 
IV I 136, “Indeed, a’ must shoot neaier, or he ’ll ne’er hit the clout ” 
At twelve SCOT e-ssitwelve score yards. See i Hen IF, p 171. 

41. A forehand shaft A kind of shaft referred to—not veiy cleailj — 
by Ascham, 111 his Toxophtius, as follows : “ Agayne the bygg-bresied 
shafte IS fytte for hym which shoteth light afore him, or els the Brest, be- 
ing weke, should never wythstande that strong piththy kinde of shoot- 
ynge , thus the underhande must have a small breste, to go cleane awaye 
out of the bowe, the forehande must have a bigge bieste, to here the great 
myghte of the bowe ” 

42. Fourteen and a rhalf That is, two hundred and ninety yards. Ma- 
lone remarks. “The utmost distance that the aicheis of ancient times 
reached is supposed to have been about thi ee hundred yards. Old Double 
therefore certainly drew a good bow ” To hit a mark at twelve score 
was, however, a more extraordinary feat than merely sending a shaft foui- 
teen and a half Instances are recorded of shots at eighteen Shore. 

44. Thereafter as they be. According as they turn out The which 
follows IS emphatic The price mentioned h that of the poet’s tme, 

55 Tati Stout, stuidy. See 7 * jV p 123 ' . d 

58. Backsword wan, “ Fencei at single-sticks, ”'(S^chmidt). ^ , 

60. Accommodated, “This was one of the worrls thai weie fashionably 
affected and brought in upon every occasion by gallants in ShakespaiPe‘’s 
time, and. which atfectation he has satiiized Its favour among would-be 
maitial men is indicated by Bardolph’s affiiming it to be a soldter-ltke 
word; while the absurd way in which it was hacked and introduced upon 
all occasions, pertinent or not pertinent, and without the slightest idea as 
to what was its real meaning, is sbly shown by Bardolph’s fioundenng 
in his attempted definition of the word” (Clarke). Cf. B J , Discoveries. 
“ You are not to cast or wring for the perfumed terms of the time, as ac- 
commodation, complement, spmt, &c, but use them propeily in their 
places as otheis ” He ridicules it also m Every Man m hts Humour 
(auoted by Steevens) 

Hostess, accommodate us with another bedstaff?-^^ 

The woman does not understand the words of a<?tioii 



76 Lo<>k The folio reading; the quarto has ** like,” which Coll re- 
tains Cf. I I/€u,IKin 3 6 “while I am in some liking,” and see 
our ed p 182. 

79 Surecarl. The quarto has “Soccaid.” Surreal d was used as a 
tei m for a boon companion so lately as the latter end of the last century ” 

103, Frick him. Maik him, put him on the list See on 11. 4 285 

1 12. Other. Others , as in T. and (7 i. 3 91 “ Amidst the other,” etc 
See also quotation from Stowe in note on 256 below, Gr. 12. 

121. Son Theie is a play on the word, in antithesis to shadow. 

122. Much. The quaito leading, the folio has “not” The expres- 
sion may be ironical. Cf A. Y.L, iv 3 2 “Is it not past two o’clock 
And heie much Oilando !” 

125, Shadows to fill up, etc. “That is, W’e have in the mustei-book 
many names foi which we lececve pay, though we have not the men” 
(Johnson). Steevens quotes BarncUne Riches Souldters Wtshe to Bntons 
Welfare, 1604 “ One ^peciall meane that a shifting captaine hath to de- 
ceive his ptince, is in his number, to take pay for a whole company, when 
he hath not halfe ” 

141 A woman's tailor. Cf. T of S.vj 3 61 

“Come, tailor, let us see these ornaments; 

Lay fouh the gown ” 

See the whole dialogue that follows, Cf also Chius, Characta^of a Zeal- 
ous Neighbour “ Hee buyes his wi\e’s gownes ready made, feanng (be- 
like) some false measme from the tayler.” Cf i Hen IV p. 149, note on 

145. Battle. Battalion, army. See i Hen IV. p, 189. 

153 Put him to. Put him for, employ him as 

154 So many thousands Cf, Clarke’s Shakespeare Key, p. 52. 
several instances where his contemporaiy playwrights would have made 
occasion for coarse expression, S has managed to word allusions with 
comparative decency, ^ witness Falstaff’s hint at the swaimmg condi- 
tion of Wait’s ragged garments ” Cf also Lear,\\\ 4 164. 

172 Take such order. Take such measuies, give such orders. See 
0 th p 206, note on TeCen 01 der 

174. Tujo more ^^Flve only ha\e been called,and the numbei lequired 
is four. The restoration of the sixth man would solve the difficulty that 
occurs below , for when Mouldy and Bullcalf are set aside, Falstan gets 
but three leciuits ” (Malone). S was careless in these little matters. Cf. 
M. N. D p. 123, and T N 126, note on Three days. 

180. Since. When Cf, M N. D 11. i 149 : * 

“Thou rememberest 
Since ones I sat upon a promontory,” 

and see also W, T 210. 

187, Could away with me Could endure me Feed remaiks that the 
expression had not become obsolete even in the time of Locke. Cf his 
Conduct of the Understanding ' “ with those alone he converses, and can 




away with no company whose discouise goes beyond what claret or dis- 
soluteness inspires.’* See also Isa 1 13 

193 Camiot choose hit be. Cannot help being See i Hen. IV p 174 

196. That 's fifiy-ftve year ago See p 23 above If Fal staff was then 
“ a boy and page to Thomas Mowbray ” (see 20 above), he must now be 
at least seventy. For the plural see A K Z p 177, and cf. pound 
m 1 2. 209 above, and imle m v 5, 66 below 

198 Said 1 well? Ci M.W \ “said I well, bully Hector 

202, Hem^ boys I Cf. Much Ado, v 1. 16 “ Bid soirow wag, cry hem,” 
etc. See i Hen. IV. p 163, note on Cry hem. 

205. Corporate. A blunder for Cojporal. 

206 Harry ten shillings There weie no ten-shilling coins until the 
time of Heniy VII. (Douce). 

207 Had as lief See on 1. 2 38 above. 

219, Bear a base mind For bear a a disposition, cf. V, 
and A. 202, R. of L. 1148, 1540, Tenip. 11. i 266, T.Nw i 30, etc. 

220 So. A common use of the woid=so be it. Cf. 1 Hen IV. 11, 4. 
545, V 3. 60, 64, etc. See also M. of V.p 136. 

221. Servers. The folios have “serve his.** Cf. W. T 3. 100 “The 
trick of ’s frown,” etc. See also W. T. p. 149, note on Between 's (a sim- 
ilar contraction). 

222. Quit. Exempt , as m Hen. V. iv. 1. 122, etc. 

227. Three pound. Johnson says “ Here seems to be a wrong com- 
putation. He had forty shillings for each. Perhaps he meant to conceal 
part of the profit.” Of course he did. The amount paid was above the 
average for that day. See i Hen. IV. p. 190, note on Thiee hundred and 
odd pounds. 

241. Thews. Muscle See Ham. p. 187. 

2^, Assemblance. That is, tout ensemble S. uses the word only here. 
Schmidt thinks it may be s=“ semblance,’* which Pope substituted, Capell 
gave “ assemblage.” 

, 244- Charge you. The you is the ** expletive ” pronoun, or dahvus etht- 
eus. , Gr. 220. Cf. Put me in 251 below 

245 Swifter than he that gibbets on the brewei V bucket. Referring to 
the quick motion with which brewers’ men sling the beer-bucket on each 
end of the gibbet (or yoke across the shoulders) in carrying beer from the 
vat to the Darrel- 

246. Hatffaced. “ With so thin and sharp a figure that he looks like 
the profile of a man ” (Clarke). See i Hen IV p 154. 

248. Foeman. Steevens says • This is an obsolete term for an enemy 
in •warl'^ It is in common use m our day, at least m poetry. 

251, Caltver. A kind of musket See l Hen. IV. p 190. Steevens 
quotes The Masque of Flowers, 1613 * “ The serjeant of Kawasha earned 
on his shoulders a gieat tobacco-pipe as big as a cahver.” He adds : 
“ It is singular that S., who has so often derived his sources of merriment 
frqin recent customs or fashionable follies, should not once have men- 
tiohed tobacco, though at a time when all his contemporaries were active 
m its praise or its condemnation.” See i Hen. IV. p. 149, note on Took 
it tn smtff. 



253. Tf averse, March. See 0 th p. 169. 

256 Ckopt. The reading of the early eds foi which the modern ones 
generally substitute “ chapt ” or ** chapped,” which means the same. See 
A VZp 158. 

*^Shat IS used for shooter, one who is to fight by shooting” (Johnson). 
We still speak of “a good shot,” etc Steevens quotes 7 %e Exercise of 
Aimes, 1619 “First of all is in this figure showed to every shot how 
he shall stand and maiche, and caiiy his caliver.” Malone adds, from 
Stowe’s Amzales, 1631 . “men with aimour, . . . the greater part wheieof 
were shot, and other were pikes and halbeits, in faire coislets ” 

257. Scab A term of contempt, heie used with quibbling reference to 
Wart’s name. Cf the play on the word m Much Ado, in 3 107 and Cor, 
1. I. 169 

Testei , Sixpence , SLsmM W 1 3 96 “ Tester I ’ll have m pouch,” 
etc. Cf testnt in T N ii. 3. 34. We find the veib testein (=give a tester) 
mT G, of V \ I 153. 

259. Mtle-End Green, The place for public sports, and also for roilitaiy 
dull Accoiding to Stowe, 4000 citizens w^ere trained and exeicised theie 
m 1585 In Barnabte Etches Souldters Wtshe (see on 125 above), we find 
contemptuous mention of “a trayning at Mile-end gieene ” 

Lay Resided See T, N, p. 146 or Otk p. 193 Cf iv. 2 97 below 

260. Str Dagonei The stoiy of Sir Dagonet 3 s to be found m La 
Morte d^Arthure, wheie he is the king’s squiie. Arthur's Show was an 
exhibition of archery by a society who styled themselves “ The Auncient 
Order, Society, and Unitie laudable of Piince Arthure and his Knightly 
Armory of the Round Table.” The members, fifty-eight in number, took 
the names of the knights in the old romance, and their usual place of 
meeting was Mile-End Green, 

261 Qmver, Nimble, active ; used by S. nowhere else. Henderson 
quotes Bartholomeus, 1535 “There is a manei fishe that hyght mugill, 
which IS full quiver and swifte.” 

263 Bounce Bang. Cf K, John, ii. i 462 . “ lie speaks plain can- 
non nre, and smoke and bounce ” 

275. At a word In a word (=biiefiy, but what I mean). See Much 
Ado, p. 130. Cf> also i?/. IT 1. 3. 15 • “ I am at a woid , follow ” (that is, 
I am not of many woi ds). 

278 Fetch off, “ Fleece, make a prey of” (Schmidt). In W, T, 1. 2. 
334 It is=make away with See our ed, p 160 

283. Turnbull Street A corruption of Turnmill Street, a disreputable 
quaiter in London. Steevens quotes Ram Alley “*You swaggering, 
cheating, Turnbull-street rogue and B. and F , Scornful Lady ‘ “ Here 
has been such a hurry, such a dm, such dismal drinking, swearing, &c, 
we have all lived in a perpetual Turnbull-street.” 

Duer, Changed by Pope to “ more duly.” 

289 Invtnable, “Not to be evinced, not to be made out, indetermi- 
nable ” (Schmidt). Some editors adopt Rowe’s “ invisible ” 

291 *^ Fancm and Cood^^mghts were the common titles of little poems. 
One of Gascoigne’s Good-mghts is published among his Flowers" (Siee- 



293 T/us Vine's dagger. Alluding to the wooden dagger of the Vice in 
the old moralities See i Hen IV, p 165, note on A dagger of lath, 

294 Sworn brcthei Alluding to the fuitres jituiti of the times ot chiv- 
aliy See Rt^h II p 20S or ^ F A p 199 

295. BuisL Bioke. Ci T of S ind i 8 *‘the glasses you have 
burst,” etc, 

297 His own name. That is, a gannt fellow Cf Gaunt’s death-bed 
playing on his own name in Rick II 11 i 74 iol 

298 Eelsktn Cf H John, 1 i. 141 , and see i Hen IV, p. 167. 

300 Beefs ** Beeves” (the to! 10 leading), CfAIofV,i,$ 16S “mut- 
tons, beefs, 01 goats ” 

301 A pkilosopheVs iwo stones. That is, double the value of the phi- 
losopher’s stone, or “moie than the philosopher’s stone” (Johnson), 
“ Falstaff thus vaunts his power of tiansfeiiing men’s money fiom their 
jiocket to his own as sm passing that of the philosophei’s stone to tians- 
inute base metals into gold, and the lesult proves his boast to be no 
empty one, for he afterwaids succeeds in obtaining *a thousand pound’ 
irom Master Shallow” (Clarke). See v 5 12 below. 

302 If the young dace^ etc “ That is, if the pike may piey upon the 
dace, if It be the law of nature that the stronger may seize upon the 
weaker, Falstaff may, with gieat propiiety, devour Shallow” (Johnson). 
Vaughan remarks “The piscatoiial metaphor of Falstaff seems pecul- 
iarly natural to one bom on the banks of the Avon, wheie probably the 
best kind of angling was ti oiling tor pike with dace or gudgeon for bait ” 

304, And there an end And theie ’s no more to say about it See 
Hand y p, 191. 


Scene I — % Gaultree, Spelt ‘‘Gualtree” in the folios. See extiact 
from Holinshed, p 140 above. The great forest of Galties anciently ex- 
tended to the north of the city of Yoik, and comprised neatly 100,000 
acres of land. It lemamed a royal foiest until 1670, when an act of par- 
liament was obtained for its division and enclosure. It is the “ Calate- 
num Nemus” of Geoffiey of Monmouth, who makes it the scene of his 
story of Aithegal and Elidure* 

3 Discovaejs, Scouts. 

8 New-dated, Of lecent date. S is fond of compounds wnth new, 
Cf. 1 3. 138 above 

ro Here doth he wish^ etc He wishes he could have been here m per- 
souy etc. For powers see K, John^ p 160 Cf. iv 2. 61 below 

I r. Hoid soriance Be in accordance. Cf. sort with in M, N v.’ i. 
55 and Hen, V iv i 63. 

13. Ripe Ripen, mature ; as in H, yohn^ 11. r. 472, etc. 

15. Qveiltve, Outlive, sm vive ; used by S. only hei e 

la Opposite* Opponent, ad versaiy See T Np 145 

23 Gme them out. Declare^ them, said they weie. Cf. Mach p 244. 

24 Sway, ** This verb has excellent effect thus employed, to give the 



idea of a military movement, a body of foices sweeping heavily, yet im- 
petuously, on in a given direction” (Clarke) Johnson compares the use 
of the noun in Milton,/* vi 251 (which he misquotes) “with huge 
two-handed sway Blandish’d aloft,” etc, Warb gave the poor substitute 
“Let us way,” and the Coll MS leads “Let ’s away” 

34 Bloody “ Sanguine, or full of blood and of those passions which 
blood IS supposed to incite or nouiish” (Johnson). Malone compaies 
M W V ^ 99 “ Lust IS but a bloody fire ” 

Guarded with rags Foi guarded— decked, see M of "V p. 
140, and ct I Hen, IV p 177, note on Velvet-guards Rags is Walkei’s 
conjectiue foi the “rage ” of the early eds It is found also m the Coll. 
Mb and is adopted by Sr , the Camb editois, Claike, I) , W , and others. 

42 Civil, Well-oideied , or perhaps, as Steevens makes it, “giave, 
solemn.” See R and J p. 1S5 

45 White investments. Dr Giey says that formerly all bishops woie 
white (the episcopal rochet) even when they travelled 

50 Greaves Steevens’s coiijectuie for the “giaves” of the eaily eds. 
According to some, the latter is only anothei way of spelling greaves 
Hanmer adopted Wai bin ton’s conjecture of “glaives” Schmidt be- 
lieves that graves may as well be sepulchies heie ” , 

52 Romt. “A signal given by the blast of a trumpet” (Schmidt). 
Many passages in the old diamatists confiim this explanation 
55-79. And , , , wrong Omitted in the quarto. 

57 Bleed That is, be bled. Cf Rich II, \ 1.157; “Oui doctors say 
this IS no month to bleed ” 

60 . 1 take not on me here as a physician, I do not profess to be a phy- 
sician. Cf C of E.^.i 242 

“ this pernicious slave, 

Forsooth, took on him as a conjurer,” etc 
69 Griefs, Grievances , as in 77 and no below. See i Hen IV p 192. 
71. liphete Wai burton’s coirection of the “there” of the folios, and 
adopted by D , K., W , and others. St and Clarke retain “ there,” mak- 
ing most ^2/^^/=gieatest quiet (cC Jff for M iv, i 44 “ray most stay,” 
etc) and “ there ”=therein, refening to the stieam of life. Theo sug- 
gested “chair” (also in the Coll MS ) for “theie,” but the archbishop 
is speaking of his companions as well as himself 
72 Occasion A quadusy liable heie See on ind 26 above. Cf com- 
mission in 162 below 

83. Instance, Pi oof, illustiation. See on 111. 1. 103 above, 

84. Ill-beseeming. Unbecoming Cf. R and f i. 5 76, in. 3 113, etc. 
We have well-beseemtng m i Hen, IV i i 14 

90 Grate on Vex, worry. Cf M W m 2 6 “I have grated upon 
my good friends,” etc For the tiansitive use, see Ham p 216. The 
metaphor is similar to that in galled 
93 Commotion y as in 36 and ii 4. 314 above For edge 
= sword, cf. I Hen IV 1. 1 17 “ The edge of wai Rich III v. 5 35 
“ the edge of ti aitoi s,” etc 

This line and 95 below aie omitted in the folios and m some copies of 
the quarto. It is the opinion of some of the cutics that several lines 



have been lost here and the remaining ones displaced. Various attempts 
at le-airangement and emendation have been made, but they do not seem 
to us worth quoting 

94 My brother^ etc This speech, as it stands, is thus explained by 
Clarke “ The grievances of my brothei geneial, the commonwealth, and 
the home cruelty to my boin bi other, cause me to make this quarrel my 
own. ’ The archbishop’s bi other had been beheaded by the king’s or- 
der. Cf I Hen IV i ^ 270 . 

“ who bears hard 

His brother’s death at Bnstol, the Lord Scroop ” 

97 Redress. This, as Clarke notes, favouis the supposition that some- 
thing has been lost above, “since it is said in leply, and as if 7 'ed^ess had 
been one of the words used by the aichbishop ” 

98 Hot For the transposition, cf Tefnp 11 i I2i “I do not doubt,” 
etc. Gr 305 See also 107 below 

103-139 5 , mv good . the king. Omitted m the quarto 
104. To According to. Gr 187 

107. Yet for your pari etc. “ Whether the faults of govei nment be 
imputed to the time or the ktng^ it appears not that ;you have, for youi 
pait, been injured either by the king 01 the tinie'^'* (Johnson) 

1 16. Foice peifoice A more emphatic form of perforce^ and like that 
sometimes=by foice, sometimes=of necessity (see on 1 3 72 above) Cf 
IV. 4. 46 below, wheie it has the latter sense See also K. John^ p. 154 
W. follows the folio in reading “forc’d, perforce ” 

1 17 Then that Changed by Rowe (ed i) to “when, that,” and by 
Pope to “ then, when.” 

For the events lefeired to, see Rich II 1 3 

120 hi charge. “In rest” for the chaige or encounter. For beaver 
(=the movable front of the helmet), see Ham p 186. 

12 1 Sights The eye-holes ol the hefmet 

125. Warder. Truncheon, or staff of command Cf Rich // i 3 ri8 • 
“ Stay, the king hath throwm his wardei clown and see oui ed p 163 
127. Then threw he down himself etc. Cf Antony’s speech in y. C. 
Ill 2 195 “Then I, and you, and all of us fell down,” etc 

129. Miscarried Perished, been lost , the most common sense in S. 
See 71 p 152 Cf. iv 2 46 below 
13 1 Earl. He was Duke of Hereford (Malone). See Rich. II Else- 
where (see ^ W.\i\ 5 i 2 ,ig,Hen V.iv 8.103,^? andJAw 4.21} S uses 
earl loosely of foreign noblemen (=:count). * 

135 Cffventiy The place where the lists were held. ^^oRich II. 1 3 
and our ed p 159 

139. Indeed The folios have “and did.” The correction was pro- 
posed by Thirlby, and first adopted by Theo Delius conjectures “ and 
bid,” and the Cainb editors “and eyed ” 

145. Every thing set off. The phrase is ambiguous, and thus serves the 
speaker’s purpose Set off may be=-cast out, ignored, or=:rendered ac- 
count for (Clai ke) 

149 Ov^ween “ Think arrogantly ” (Schmidt). Ci,RtcJi //p. 154. 
See also Milton, Sontu 4. 6: 

IV. SCENE I. 183 

and they that overween. 

And at thy growing virtues fret their spleen,” etc. 

15 1. Wtthtn a ken Within sight Cf. Cymb, 111 6. 6: “Thou wast 
within a ken,” i?. tf/'Z. 1114: “’T is double death to die m ken of 
shoie,” etc 

154. Battle. Army. See on 111 2. 145 above, and cf 179 below. 

157. Will. Changed by Pope to “wills ” 

16 1. Handling, A trisyllable here. Gr 477* 

164 Determine. Followed by of; as in T G ofV. ii. 4. i8x, Rich. Ill 
111. 4. 2, R. and J in. 2. 51, etc 

166. Intended. Understood, implied (Fr entendu). 

167 I muse, etc I wonder that you can ask a question so frivolous. 
For muse, see JC, fokn, p 158 or Maeb p. 219 

172, Insinewed. Joined, allied. Cf AT John, v. 2 63 ; 

“ so, nobles, shall you all 
That knit your smews to the strength of mine 

See also 177 below. 

173 ^y ^ substantial form “That is, by a paidon of due form 
and legal validity” (Johnson) 

175. Confin'd. “ What they demand is, a speedy execution of their 
wills, so far as they relate to themselves, and to the grievances which 
they proposed to redress” (Mason). Some editors adopt Johnson’s con^ 
jecture of “ consign’d.” He explained the amended passage thus , “ Let 
the execution of our demands be pat into oui hands, according to our 
declared purposes ” Malone followed Johnson, but made “consign’d” 
=“ sealed, ratified, confiimed” (cf v 11, 143 below). Waib. changed 
purposes to “piopeities Hanmer gave “properties confirm’d;” and 
Capell “pui poses, confiim’d” D and W. have “confirm’d,” K. and 
Claike “consign’d,” Coll, and the Camb editors retain confin'd 

176 Our awful banks. “The proper limits of reveience” (Johnson). 
For fl:z£p^/=filled with awe or reverence, cf. Rich. II in. 3 76 . * To pay 
their awful duty to our piesence;” and see our ed. p 195. Waib, 
changed awful to “ lawful ” 

187. Consist. Either =stand, rest (as explained by Malone and Clarke) 
or =“ insist,” which Rowe substituted. Cf Per. i 4. 83 , “ Welcome is 
peace, if he on peace consist.” The context (cf 165 and 184 above) fa- 
vours the former pterpretation 

189 Our valuation. That is, the king’s estimate or opinion of us See 
Gr. 219 

191. Nice. Trivial. See R and J. p. 183 

192. Action. A trisyllable. See on 72 above, and cf. partition m 196 
just below. 

193. That. So that See on 1 i, 197 above, and cf 216 below. Our 
royal faiths=ovLr faith or fidelity to the king. For the plural, see on 11 3. 
25 above. Hanmer changed royal to “loyal.”-, , 

194. Winnowed, The reading of the first folio ; omitted in the colla- 
tion of the Camb. ed., which reads “ winnow’d.” 

196. Partition. Cf, Cymb. i, 6. 37 ; 



** and can we not 

Partition make with spectacles so pi ecious 
’Twixt fair and fouP” 

198. Fzchng. Petty, insignificant Schmidt explains it as “sought in- 
dusti loufaly (Geiman gesucht) ’’ Cf puked — fastidious (see Ham, 
p* 262). 

201. Tables. Tablets, note-book See on 11 4 223 above. 

203 History The only instance of the veib in S 

206. Misdoubts. Suspicions The noun is found again in 2 Hen. VI 
111, 1, 332. For occasion^ see on 72 above 

209, So W conjectuies “too,” believing that S would have a\oided 
using so four times in six lines He notes also the allusion to the para- 
ble of the taies and the wheat 

21 1 Him on. Coll, adopts “her man” fiom his MS. corrector — an 
emendation more Hibernian than Shakespearian Clarke lemaiks “ It 
IS precisely in Shakespeare’s condensedly expiessive style to use him in 
this figurative sentence so as to give the double effect of the husband 
who IS implied m the word wt/e^ and the king who was mentioned at the 
beginning of the speech ” 

213. Hangs. That is, suspends it, in a figmative as well as a Iiteial 
sense. Cf T. and C iv. 5 188 . 

“ When thou hast hung thy advanced sword i’ the air, 

Not letting It decline on the declin’d ” 

Resolv'd conechoH = thc chastisement he has resolved or determined 
upon. Of.JT.yoAn,n i 585: “a resolv’d and honourable war.” The 
meaning of the whole passage is : and checks or restrains the purposed 
chastisement in the hand already laised to execute it^ 

216. Tkat. See on 193 above. 

’ 219. OJ^er. Menace, or assail. See i Hen TV p. 187 

221. Atonement Reconciliation , the only sense in S, Cf. jW. W i 1. 
33 and Rick. HI 1 3 36 See also on the veib, 0 th. p. 198. 

225. Pleaseth. C? iv. 2 52 below', and see on 1 i 5 above 

Scene Yon aie well encounter'd We are glad to meet you, 

8. An iron man. Hohnshed (see p. 140 above) desciibes the aich- 
bishop as “clad in armoui.” 

14. Set abroach Cause , but only in a bad sense. Cf, Rick. III. 1 3. 
325 and R and y. i i. iii 

19. Imagin'd. The early eds. have “ imagine corrected by Rowe. 

20. Intelhgencer. Mediator, agent ; as in Rick III. iv. 4. 71 ; 

“ Richard yet lives, helPs black intelligencer, 

Only reserv’d iheir factor, to buy so^s 
And send them thither ” 

^ The passage does not strike ns as a difficult one, but H (school ed ) obscures it by 
the following note “The meaning is rather obscure The antithesis is between cor- 
rection and execution. Jgesolv'd has the sense of assured^ a fiequent use of the word 
m S In the case supposed, the arm upreared to stnke is sure to be arrested ” The 
antithesis is not between correction and execuimit and ?esotdd cannot possibly mean 
“sure to be arrested.” 



26 Tdenup. Levied , as m ii 1 170 above The folios have “ taken 
up ” For other senses of the expression, see on 1 2 37 and 1 3. 73 above, 

27. ZeaL Some adopt Capell’s conjecture of “ seal but zeal of God 
= devotion to God’s cause, 

33, Misorder'd Disoidered , used by S nowheie else. 

36 Gyief See on IV i 69 above 

39 Whose dangerotts eyes, etc “Alluding to the diagon chaimed to 
rest by the spells of Medea” (Steevens) 

45 Supplies, Reserves, reinfoi cements. See on i. 3. 12 above. 

47 Success, Succession. Cf W TIi. 2. 394* 

oar parents* noble names, 

In whose success we are gentle 
and see our ed p. 161 

49 Whiles Used in teichangeably with Gr 137. Y ox genera” 

tion, see on ind. 26 above. 

52 Pleasetk, Let it please See on 5 . 1.5 and in. i 98 above. 

54. Allow, Appiove. Malone compares Lear, 11 4. 194: 

“ if your sweet sway 
Allow obedience ” 

The meaning, howevei, may be, I leadily admit or grant them. Cf 1, 3 5 

56 Mistook, S. uses both mistook and mistaken (or mistden) as the 
paiticiple. Cf. Hen, F. ii 4. 30 with Id, 111 6. 8$. Gi 343. 

61. Discharge your po%vers. Dismiss youi forces. It was Westmore- 
land, according to Hohnshed (see p. 141 above), who made this deceitful 
proposal (Steevens) For poweis, see on iv. i 10 above. 

70 Part Depait See M of V 145 

79 In very happy season, Cf,f C 11 2 60 “in veliy happy time ” 

82 Against ill chames men are ever meiry “ Thus the poet describes 
Romeo as feeling an unaccmtomed degiee of cheerfulness just before he 
bears the news of the death of Juliet” (Steevens) See P,andy,^ 1. 
I fol 

85. Passing, Exceedingly; used only before adjectives and adverbs 

93. Our, Changed by Capell to “your;’’ but, as Clarke remaiks, “it 
is just one of those fan -sounding proposals that this peifidious son of 
tricking Bolingbroke makes ; he proposes to let the foices on each side 
march by, that each paity may see those that weie to have contended 
with them, well knowing that no such thing will take place, having evi- 
dently had an undei standing with Westmoi eland as to what w'as to be 
really done.” 

94. Peruse, Survey, examine See Ham, p 257 

97. Lie, Occupy the same house 01 lodgings. Vaughan remarks that 
the same expression occurs rather quaintly in Hohnshed, w'ho says of 
Edward Balliol after his expulsion from Scotland, “ After this he went 
and laie a time with the Lady of Gines, that was his kinswoman.” 

109. Attach, Arrest See P. and y p. 2^17 

1 12. Pawned, Pledged. Cf AT. John,\\i i 98* “Have I not pawm’d 
to you ray majesty ?” 


1 86 

1 19 Foolishly, \%%Rtch III 111 7, 147, etc. 

12 1 God^ and not we^ etc “ This sickening hypoci isy of daring to as- 
cribe to Heaven so glaring an act of treachery and faithlessness is thoi - 
oughly in keeping with Pi nice John’s cold-natured and tieacheious char- 
acter — as inherited from his oily, ciafty father” (Clarke) 

Johnson remarks “ It cannot but laise some indignation, to find this 
horrid violation of faith passed over thus slightly by the poet, without 
any note of censuie 01 detestation.” Veiplantk adds “ In this indigna- 
tion most commentators have joined I do not see why Chief-Justice 
Marshall is said to have observed to a piolix counsel, who had entered 
upon a demonstration of some familiar elementary doctune, that ‘he 
ought to piesiime that the couit knew something ’ Shakespeare always 
presumes his readers to have the fiist principles of moials and human 
feelings in their hearts, and does not enter into declamatoiy demonstia- 
tion to show the baseness or guilt of the deeds he lepresents in his 
scenes Here he portrays the political craft of Bolmgbloke and his cold- 
blooded son, whom he has thought fit, for his dramatic purpose, with lit- 
tle warrant fiom histqry, to place m contiast with his nobler brother. 
He took It for granted that, when Mowbray asks, ‘ Is this pioceeding just 
and honourable Kfs audience would find an unhesitating and unanimous 
negative and indignant reply m their own hearts, without hearing a ser- 
mon upon it from the deceived aichbishop, or a lecture from some by- 
stander ” 

Scene III, — 7 Place Coll, substitutes “dale” from his MS T>r- 
whitt pioposed to change place in the next line to “dale f but Johnson 
remarks “ The sense of dale is included in deep a dale is a deep place , 
a dungeon is a deep place , he that is in a dungeon may therefore be said 
to be in a daleP Vaughan says “In Falstaff’s reasoning, the major 
premiss — that is, ‘all places deep enough are dales ’ — is understood with- 
out being expressed ; the minor premiss, ‘ a dungeon is a place deep 
enough,’ is expressed. Fiom the two combined follows logically and 
strictly the conclusion, * You, being in a dungeon and of a dungeon, are 
in a dale and of a dale P ” That Falstaif was a logician we might infer 
from I Nett IV, 11. 4. 544 ; “ I deny your major.” 

13. Observame. Homage. See A,Y L 195. 

20. Indifferency, Moderate measure See K, John, p. 151, 

21. Womb, Used jocosely by Falstaff, but in Old English equii^alent 
to bellffn Wiclif ’s Bible, m Zuhe, xv. 16, has, “ he coveted to fill his womb 
of the cods that the hogs did eat” 

22. The heat is past. The race is over j referring to the pursuit of “ the 
scattered stray” (iv. 2. 120) Johnson explained heat as “the violence 
of resentment, the eagerness of revenge.” Schmidt makes keat=** haste, 

^ 29. ChecA Reproofi See Olh, p. 158, apd ci the verb in i. 2. 183 and 
m. I, 68 above. 

31. Poor and old motion, “ Sir John’s wit can make his age as gootl a 
plea here as he made his youth answer the pm pose on another occasion” 
(Clarke). Cf. 1. 2. 162 fol. above. 



33 Posts, Post-hoises. Claike remaiks. “Falstaff’sfine exaggeiations 
have so iich an excess that they proclaim then own immunity from cen- 
suie as lies 1 hey at once avow innocence of intention to deceive, they 
are utteied foi the pure pleasiiie of wit-invention It is not that he for a' 
moment expects Pi nice John to believe in Ins having foundeied more 
than a hundied and eighty horses, but he has a lelish m defending him- 
self with such exuberance of resource that his hearer shall be compelled 
to give way. He is not m the right , but it is his will that those who 
listen to him shall allow him to leave off as if he were in the right, even 
while he is in the wiong, foi the pme sake of his wit. He nevei pioves 
his case ; but he so ably defends his cause that he invariably gams the 
day. No one can condemn, though no one acquits him , he is left un- 
judged, and suffeied still to go at large, and in tiiumph— the victor 

37 The hook-nosed fellow of Rome, The quaito adds the words “theie 
cosin” before which Johnson took to be a corruption of “there, 

Caesar.” Capell suggested “your cousin,” and Coll “my cousin.” The 
folio reads as in the text. 

43. In a paiticulai ballad According to the fasliion in Shakespeare’s 
time of making impoitant or interesting events of the day the subjects 
of ballads. Cf W, T p. 198 (note on Of a fish^ etc.) and p. 210 (note 
on Ballad-makers') 

48 The element The sky See J, C. p. 140 or Hen, V p. 1 74 Vaughan 
remarks : “ This old signification is still retained by the folk of South 
Pembrokeshire. A peasant recently said to me * I thought this morning 
that we should have ram, for I saw, as I came along, a weather-gall in the 
element’ A ‘ weather-gall ’ is a kind of half-rainbow, and is regaided as 
a sign of wet weather by the country people.” 

58 Colevtle. Here, as in 68 below, the word appears to be a tusyllable, 
and Steevens thought it might have been intended to he regularly so. 

69 Present, Immediate, as often. Cf iv. i 174 above. 

77. Stand my good lord. Be my kind pation, befiiend me. Cf. n i. 59 

79 In my condtiton, “In my official capacity” (Schmidt). J. H. ex- 
plains It “ as regards my di:5positiQn ” Clarke, who agiees with Schmidt, 
1 emarks i “ The frigid Prince John implies that in this capacity it behooves 
him to tell the strict tiuth respecting the various officers serving under 
him, and that therefore saying any thing favourable of Falstaff will be to 
speak better of him than he deserves ” 

83, A man canmt make him laugh. “ A quality deeply distasteful to 
Shakespeare, to his finest characters, and to all those who know how es- 
sentially a sense of humour is allied to the finest sensibilities of humanity. 
. . . The man who could see and hear Falstaff unmoved was the very man 
to coolly order ^ those traitors to the block of death,’ after having cheated 
them by fair-sounding promisea— cold, hard, impei vious to feeling through- 
out” (Clarke). 

$4 Never none The folio has “never any but double negatives aie 
common in S See Or 406- 

85. Come to any pi oof Prove to bewmrth anything. Cf. Holinshed, 



Chon a vehement fiost . . destroyed up all the seed almost that was 
sowne, by reason wheieof small store of winter come came to pi oof in 
the Slimmer following ” Steevens exi^lains any pi oof as = ** any confii med 
state of manhood 

88 Shems-sack. Shenvw me , called simply just below^ Sack 
was “the generic name of Spanish and Canary wines ” (Schmidt) Ma- 
lone quotes Minsheu, Span, Did., 1617 “ X6ies, or Xeies, oppidiim Boe- 
ticae, i.e. Andalusise, pi ope Cadiz, unde nomen vini de Xeies A [Anglice] 
Xeies sackeT Cole, who 111 1679 lendeis sack “ vinum Hispamcum,” de- 
fines Shelly- sack as “vinum Eseiitanum ” 

89 Ascends me. Ihe me is the dattzms ethuiis See on 111 2. 244 

Veiplanck thinks that S here “ was indebted to the conversation of his 
friend Ben Jonson, boiiowmg this fiom his talk, without meaning that the 
resemblance went any fuithei.” He adds “It seems, fiom lately dis- 
covered manusciipts of old Ben’s, that he had piecisely this opinion of 
excellent ‘sheius,’ m making the biain ‘apprehensive, quick, foigeti\e, 
full of nimble, fieiy, and delectable shapes,’ etc* In an unpublished soit 
of diary of Ben Jonson’s, preserved at Dulwich College, quoted by 
Hughson {Histoiy of London), he says 

f '‘Mem I laid the plot of my Volpone, and wrote most of it, after a present of ten doz 
of Palm sack, from my very good loid T , that play, 1 am positive, wdl last to pos- 

terity, when I and Etivy are tnends with applause ’ 

“Aftei wards he speaks ot his Catiline in a similar way, but adds that 
he thinks one of its scenes flat, and thereupon lesohes to dunk no more 
water with his wine The AUhemist and Silent Woman he clescnbes as 
the product of much and good wine , but he adds that his comedy The 
Devil zs an Ass 'wsls wntten when I and my boys drank bad wine ’ ” 

90 Crudy. Ciude, law, used by S only here Cizzde does not occur 
in his woiks. 

91 Forgetwe. inventn e, imaginative , from foige The word is found 
nowhere else 

96 The liver white, etc QS M of V m 2 86 “ How many cowards 
, . have livers white as milk,” T and C 11 2 50: “Make livers pale 
and lustihood deject,” etc Cf also hly-ltveied (Mack v 3 2. 

18), mtlk-hveied {L L Z. iv 2. ^S),white’liveied (Hen V 111 2. 34, 

Ill IV 4. 465), etc 

100 This little kingdom, man. Cf K. yokn, iv 2 246 

“this fleshlv land. 

This kingdom, this confine of blood and breath,” 

and see also T and C 11 3 185, ^ C 11 i 68, and Alacb 1 3 140 

102 This retinue The folios have “ his retinue ” 

105 A -work To work, used only with CfE.ofZ 14^6, T and C. 
V. 10 ^S,Ham 11 2 510, and Z^or, in 5 8 

106- Xept by a dnnl Alluding to the old superstition that mines of 
gold, etc,, were guarded by evil spirits Steevens quotes Fenton, Seerde 
Wonders of Natuie, 1569 “Theie appeare at this day many stiange vis- 
ions and wicked spintes in the metsd-niines of the Create Turke and 



again* **In the mine at Annebuig was a mettal sprite which killed 
twelve woikmen, the same causing the rest to foisake the myne, albeit 
It was very riche ” 

Commences it and sets in act and use The critics generally agiee with 
Tyi whitt that theie is an allusion here “ to the Cambridge Commencement 
and the Oxford Act, foi by those diffeient names the two universities 
have long distinguished the season at which each gives to her respective 
students a complete authoiity to use those hoaids of learning which have 
entitled them to their seveial degrees ” 

111 That So that See on 1. 1 197 above. 

1 12 Humane* Omitted m the folios Johnson changed it to ‘‘hu- 
man ” Humane is the only spelling of the w'ord in the early eds even 
when it IS equivalent to the modern human^ and the accent in verse is 
legulaily on the first syllable See Macb p 218, note on Human 

1 19 Tempering “ An allusion to the old use of sealing with soft wax ” 
(Waib ). Steevens quotes Middleton, Any Thing for a Quiet Life “You 
must teinpei him like wax, or he ’ll not seal ,” and Your Five Gallants * 
“ Fetch a pennyworth of soft wax to seal letteis.” See also V and A* 565. 

Scene IV — 5 Address\f Prepared, leady See f, C p. 156 or 
M H I? i\ 1S2 Fower=aimy, as in 1 i 133, 1 3 29, 71, etc. 

6 IVell invested, Piopeily installed, or invested with authoiity. Cf. 
Macb 11. 4 32 “ gone to Scone To be invested.” * 

9. Pause us. The only instance of the reflexive use of the verb in S. 
Vaughan would lead “and pause until.” 

20. How chance^ etc. How chances it, etc. See M H. D p 12S. ^ 

27. Omit Neglect , a sense which it has elsewhere (as in Temp i. 2. 
183, ii I 194, Coi HI 1. 146, etc ), though this is the only instance with a 
peisonal object. 

30 Observ'd Tieated w ith due observance or deference , as in T. and C, 
11.3 137, T of A IV 3 212, etc. 

32. Melting The folio reading , the quaito has “ meeting,” 

33 Being mcens'di he 's flmt “ If any thing be done to provoke him, 
he bleaks out in angry an^tiansient spaiks like a flint” (Vaughan). Cf 
y. C iv. 3 II I “ That carries anger as the flint beais file.” 

34 Humorous. Waywaid, capiicious See-<^ Y.L p 146 The simile 
as winter yiOu\ 6 . seem iiatuial enough in New England, but is not so ap- 
pi opriate in Old England Malone suggests that humorous may be used 
equivocally “he abounds m capricious fancies, as winter abounds in 
moisture” “As humoious as ApnP'* (cf T 0 ,ofV 1. 3 85} occurs in 
The Silent Woman and elsewheie. 

35 As flaws congealed^ etc “Alluding to the opinion of some philos- 
opheis that the vapours being congealed in the an* by cold (which is most 
intense towards the mouiing), and being afterwards raiefied and let loose 
by the warmth of the sun, occasion those sudden and impetuous gusts of 
wind which are called flaws'*'' (Waib ) Edwards says that flaw some- 
times means a blade of ice seen on edges of water in wintei mornings, 
and D. adds that he has heard the woid similarly used. S. may use the 
,word in this sense. 



39 BetJig moody When be is out of humoui . Cf Gr 377* 

40 Till that. For that used as “a conjunctional alfix” (of which we 
have aheady had seveial examples in this play), see Gr. 287 

41 Confound Exhaust It often means to weai away (see Hen V 
p 162) or destroy (see Afacb p 189 or E and J p 178). 

44. The umtid vessel of their blood. The vessel of their united blood 
For the transposition of epithets m S. see Schmidt, p 1423, or Fieays 
/ntiod to Shakes Study tP 51. 

45. Mingled with venom of suggestion, Malone makes this=“ though 
their blood be inflamed by the temptations to which youth is peculiarly 
subject.” We are inclined to agree with Vaughan, who says “The 
whole tenor of the king’s address to Clarence is that of an exhortation to 
keep the brotheihood of the princes fiee from fatal dissensions. Youth- 
ful temptations under any point of view aie not alluded to ” He interprets 
the passage tlms. “even although that blood shall be mingled with the ven- 
omous intusion of all such provocatives of discord as the persons and 
circumstances of the age in which we live are certain to pour into it de- 
spite of every precaution, and although, fuither, that infusion woik like 
aconite or gunpowder ” 

46. Force perforce See on iv 1. 116 above 

48. Aiomtum, Aconite. The Latin form is the one regularly used by 
wnters of the time Steevens cites Heywood, Brazen Age, 1613 : With 
aconitum^hat in Tartar springs,” etc. quickly ignited 5 as in 

Bich. IJ, n, I 33 : “ His rash fierce blaze of not cannot last and i 
Hen, IV, in. 2.61 : “rash bavin wits. Soon kindled and soon buint ” 

53. And other his, Cf. M, W. 11. 2. 259 “and a thousand other her 
defences and Leart 1. 4, 259 . “ Of other your new pianks ” 

65. Affections Pi opensities, inclinations. Cf R, and J, p, 143. 

67. You look beyond him. You misjudge or misconstrue him. Schmidt 
comijares Ham, n 1. 1 1 5 * “To cast beyond ourselves in our opinions.” 
The idea, as Clarke suggests, seems to be that of “overshooting the mark” 
m our estimate. 

74* Perfectness, The woid occurs again in L, Z. Z. v, “Is this 

yoiu* perfectness?” 

79 Seldom when. Seldom that. Cf. M for M. iv. 2 89 : 

“This IS a gentle provost’ seldom when 
The steeled jailer is the friend of men “ 

Johnson paraphrases the passage thus: “as the bee, having once 
placed her comb m a carcase, stays by her honey, so he that has once 
taken pleasure in bad company will continue to associate with those that 
have the art of pleasing him ” 

9a In hfs particular. In its detail 
. 92. The haunch. The hind part, the dose 

lot. Please it you. May it please jou. See on i. t, 5 and on iil i. 98 
' above. 

105. Stomach Appetite. See Much Ado, p 126, 

1 19. Hath wrought the muie. Hath worn the wall. The past tense of 
work is regularly wrought in S. The “worked” in Tof Am v. 1. 116 is 



“ an inadmissible substitution of modern editois ” (Scbmidt), Mure (Lat 
murzts) IS used by S nowhere else Steevens cites, among other exam- 
ples of the word, Heywood, Golden Age, 1611 . “ Gut with a triple mure 
of shining brass.” We find the verb (=shut up) in Spenser, I\ Q. vi. 

“he tooke a muzzel strong 
Of surest yron, made with many a lincke * 

Therewith he mured up his mouth along, 

And therein shut up his blasphemous tong 

The same thought occuis m Daniel’s Ctml Wais, book i\., refeiiing, as 
heie, to the sickness of Heni*y IV : 

“ As that the walls worn thin permit the mind 
To look out thorow, and his frailtie find ” 

The first four books of the Civil Wars were printed jn 1595, and S. had 
probably read them. In the first ed. the lines read ' 

“Wearing the walls so thra, that now the mind 
Might well look thorough, and his frailty find ” 

Hts heie=z/j‘, referring to wall, not to mind (Malone). 

1 2 1. Feai me Make me fear, alarm me See K John, p 147, or M, of V 
p. 137. Odserve="^ gwQ heed to repoits of” (J H.). 

122 Loathly, Loathsome. Cf Temp,iv,i 21: “ weeds so loathly ” 
In 0 th, in 4. 62, the 1st quarto has “loathly,” the other early eds. 
“ loathed ” 

Unfathered <^«W=:creatqres supposed to be born without progenitors , 
and loathly births of naturessunnsLiuraX births, monsti osities According 
to St , the unfathered heirs were certain so-called prophets, who pietended 
td have been conceived by miracle, like Merlin. Cf Spenser, F. Q, m, 

* “And, sooth, men say that he was not the sonne 

Of raortall Syre or other living wight, 

But wondrously begotten, and begonne 
By false illusion of a guilefull Spnglit 
On a faire Lady Nonne, that whilome hight 
Matilda, daughter to Pubidius, 

Who was the lord of Mathraval by right, 

And cooseii unto King Ambrosius, 

Whence he uidped was with skill so merveilous.” 

See also Montaigne, Essays “ In MahomeTs religion, by the easie be- 
leefe of that people, are many Merlins found , That is to say, fatheiles 
childien ; Spiiitual children, conceived and borne devinely in the wombs 
of vngms,” etc. 

123. The seasons change their manners^ etc. Cf. M. N D, li. 1, 106-1 14. 
As^as if. See Gr. 107. 

125. The river,%tc. Referring to the tides in the Thames. Cf 11.3 63 
above, and see p.29. Steevens remarks. “This is histoiically true; it 
happened on the 12th of Octobei, 1411.” 

128 Sicked, The only instance of the veib in S» 

130 Apoplexy, The quarto has “ apoplexi ” and the folio “ apoplexie.” 
Pope changed the woid to “apoplex” for the sake of the metre. 

132. We insert Exeunt, which the Camb. editois omit See next note. 



ScFNE V — There is no new scene heie in the eaily eds , and the mod- 
em ones generally follow Capell in dnecting that the king be “convened 
into an inner part of the room and laid upon a bed ” D has the follow- 
ing stage-dll ection • Thty place tiu King on a bed , a c/iange 0/ scene 
being supposed here'*'* In a note he sa\s “The audience of Shake- 
speaie’s time were to suppose that a change of scene took place as soon 
as the king was laid on the bed ’ Ihe Camb editors, who begin a new 
scene heie, reniaik “Capell’s stage-dii ection is not satisfactoiy, foi it 
implies a change of scene, though none is indicated m the text The 
king’s couch would not be placed in a lecess at the back of the stage, 
because he has to make speeches from it of consideiable length. He 
must theiefore be lying in fiont of the stage, wheie he could be seen and 
heaid by the audience ” To oui mind it is peifectly cleai that the king 
IS now earned to another loom At the close of the scene (see 233 be- 
low) he asks what was the name of the chamber in which he “fiist did 
swoon” (see iv 4 no above), and, being told that it is the Jeiusalem 
Chamber, he asks to be boine to it, but if theie is no change of scene 
here, he is alieady in the Jeiusalem Chamber No commentator, so far 
as we are aware, refers to this Colliei, who does not make a change of 
scene, but simply diiects that the king be placed upon a bed “in an inner 
part of the room,” says “Of course, Henry remains in the same apait- 
ment until aftei the interview with his son, and then he letires to the Je- 
rusalem Chamber and yet he has lefeired to the swooning of the king 
in a note on iv 4 iir above, where he inserts from his Coll, MS the 
stage-direction “ Falls back ” The Jei usalem Chamber is nol a bedroom. 
The king is holding a council theie when he swoons , and when he asks 
to be taken to “some other chamber” (that is, to a bedioom), he is of 
couise obeyed, and the scene shifts to that chambei, whcie he remains 
until he asks to be boine back to the Jerusalem Chamber, on account of 
the prophecy concerning his death. 

2 Dull “Gentle, soothing” (Johnson), or rather, as Malone and 
Schmidt give it, “ producing dulness, disposing to sleep ” Cf the use 
of /f«//j=drovs'sy, in 111 i, 15 above. So ^«/?/m=drowsiness in Temp 1 2 
185 Pope changed dull to “slow,” and Waib dull and to “doleing ” 

9, 10 These lines are pnnted as verse in the quarto, but as prose in 
the folio On the other hand, 14 and 15 are made prose in the quarto, 
but two lines of verse (the first ending with joy) m the folio. These lat- 
ter aie commonly given as two lines, of which the fiist ends with sitE 
There is little to choose between that arrangement and the one m the 
text, which IS White’s 

24 Pofts. Portals, gates , as in ZI and C,iv 4,1 13, 138, Con i 7. 1, v. 
6. 6, etc 

27 B'ggen, “Nightcap” (Schmidt) The woid piopeily means a 
coarse headband 01 cap like that worn by the Bigumes, an order of Flem- 
ish nuns Cf. B J , Volpone “ Get you a biggin more, your brain breaks 

31. With safety. That is, while it gives safety or piotects from danger. 

33. Suspire, Breathe. See N John^ p i6i. 

34. Perforce Of necessity See on x 1. 165 above. 



36. Circle , a word found only here and m R, of L 1745 * “a 

watery rigol.” Nares derives it from the old Italian rtgolo^ a small wheel. 
Malone cites an example of rtngoli from Nash’s Lenten Stuffe “ the 
ringoll or ringed circle was compast and chakt out.” W reads “ ringol ” 

42. Immediate. Next in place. Cf v 2 71 below See also Ham 1. 
2. 109 “ You are the most immediate to our throne ” 

60-65 Arranged as by Capell The quarto has five lines, ending with 
out^ deaths hither^ disease^ and are , the folio seven lines, ending with 
hence^ out^ suppose^ Warwick^ conjoviSy me, and are. 

64, Pari. ** Characteristic action ” (Schmidt). 

69, 70. Arranged as by Pope. In the quarto and the folio the first line 
ends with thoughts. Some editors follow Rowe in changing thoughts to 

7t, Engross'*!. Amassed. Cf i Hen. IV. in. 2. 14S “To engross up 
glorious deeds on my behalf,” 

^2 Strange-achteved. “ Gained and yet not enjoyed” (Schmidt) The 
hyphen is in the folio. Vaughan would read “strange, achieved,” mak- 
ing strangez=:{Qrt\gci, brought from a distance. Strange^achteved may be 
=gained in foieign lands. 

76-80 Arranged as by Capell. In the folio the lines end with wax, 
hive, pains, engrossments, father. 

76 Virtuous. Powerful (Schmidt), or perhaps=characterjstic See 
M. N. D. p. 169. 

77. Our thighs, etc. Capell gave “ Packing our thighs,” etc , and Han- 
mer “Our thighs all pack’d.” D. conjectuies “Our thighs with wax, 
our mouths with honey pack’d.” 

79, Murthered. The folio reading ; not “ murther’d,” 

80. Yield hts engrossments. Do his accumulations yield. The quarto 
has “Yeelds,” and the folio “Yields,” corrected by Rowe. Sr. letains 
the old reading, assuming that taste is the subject, and /^w=:its 

82 Determin'd. Put an end to. Cf. the intransitive use (=end) m 
Cor 111 3 43, V. 3 120, etc. 

84. Kmdly. Natui al, “ not feigned ” (Schmidt). See Much Ado, p. 154. 

87, By. As a consequence of See Gr. 146. 

91. Depart the chamber, Cf. Lear, m 5 i : “ ere I depart his house,” 

94. By thee. “ In thy opinion ” (Schmidt) ; but by may be=near or with 

J04. SeaUd up. Confirmed fully. The up has an intensive force, as 
often. See A. K Z. p. xss. 

I08, Which thou hast whetted, etc. Cf. M. of V. iv, 1. 123 ; 

“ Not on thy sol^ bat on thy soul, harsh Jew, 

Thou mak’st thy kmfe keen ” 

1 1 5. Balm. Referring to the anomtmg-oil used in the ceremony of 
coronation. See Hen. K p 175. 

129. Gild his tieble guilt. Pope omitted this line, and Warb, declared 
it to be “ evidently the nonsense of some foolish player but cf. Ruh. 
11 . p. 172, note on Ime 73. For the play on guilt, cf. Hen V. li. chor. 26 : 




** the gilt of France — O guilt indeed !” Malone quotes Nicholson, Aco- 
lastus kis Afterwtt^ 1600 . 

“ O sacred thirst of golde, 'ft hat canst thon not ^ 

Some terms thee gylt^ that every soule might reade, 

Even m thy name, thy gmlt is great indeede ” 

141 Dear Earnest Cf Temp p i 2 e^^r\ott oi\ The dear'* st o* tD loss, 

145 Affect Love. See Much Ado, p. 124. ^ 

149, Teachetk, Piompts me to, this piostrate and exterior bending 
being m apposition with ohediencey'^\s\c^ is=obeisance (Mason and Ma- 

162, Carat. Spelt “ charract ” m the folio, and “ karrat ” in the quarto. 
Here it is used in the modern sense as expressing the degree of fineness 
in the gold, but in the only other instance in which it occuis m S it 
seems to express absolute weight. See C.of E.v^.i.zZi ‘‘How much 
your chain weighs to the utmost carat ” 

163 Medicine potable. Alluding to the aurum potabile, or potable gold, 
of the alchemists. Johnson remarks “Theie has long prevailed an 
opinion that a solution of gold has great medicinal virtues, and that the 
incorruptibility of gold might be communicated to the body impregnated 
with it ” Cf Chaucer, C. T 443 “ For gold in phisik is a cordial ” 

186. Met Got, gained 

194 Assistances For the plural see on iv i 193 above. 

196 Supposed That is, supposed to exist, “imaginary, not real” 

yv^^j=causes or objects of fear See on 1. 1. 95 above, and cf. Ham, 
p. 332 

200 Mode. “The form or state of things” (Johnson), the only in- 
stance of the word in S 

Purchased “ Here used in its legal sense, acquired by a man's own 
act {perquisitio) as opposed to an acquisition by descent” (Malone). 
Schmidt also explains it as “ opposed to hereditary.” Cf. A and C,\ 4. 14 ; 


Father than purchas’d ” 

Soiiie take it to be=purloined Cf i Hen. IV p. 158. 

201. More fairer. See on ni i 28 above. 

202 Successively. “ By order of succession Every usurper snatches 
a claim of hereditary right as soon as he can ” (Johnson). 

204, Griefs are gieen. Gnevances are fresh, referiing to the recent 
rebellion. Vox gitefs, see on iv i. 69 above. 

205. My friends. The early eds. have “ thy friends ” The correction 
was suggested by Tyrwhitt. Perhaps Clarke is right m retaining the old 
reading. “ By the first thy friends the king means those who are friendly 
inclined to the prince, and who, he goes on to say, must be made se- 
curely fnendb ” D reads “ my foes.” 

20$. By whose power. This of couise modifies displac'd Cf Gr. 419a. 

210. Them. Mason suggested “some,” which Coll, adopts 

214. Giddy “ Hot-brained, excitable ” (Schmidt) , or, perhaps, un- 
steady, unsettled. 



219. Now T came by the crow 7 t^ etc “This is a true pictuie of a mind 
divided between heaven and earth He prays for the prospeiity of guilt 
while he deprecates its punishment” (Johnson) 

233. Doth any name^ etc See the extract from Holinshed, p 145 above 
Steevens notes that a similar equivocal prediction occurs also in the 
Crony kil of Andrew of Wyntown Pope Sylvester, having sold himself 
to the devil, is told that he shall live to enjoy his honours until he sees 
Jerusalem. Soon afterwaids his duties call him into a church which he 
had never visited before , and on his inquiring what the church is called, 
he is told that it is “Jerusalem in Vy Lateiane ” Thereupon the proph- 
ecy is completed by his death. Boswell adds that the same story of 
Pope* Sylvester is told in Lodge’s Devil Conjured^ where, however, his 
holiness manages to outwit the devil. 

The Jerusalem Chamber, which adjoins the southwest tower of West- 
minster Abbey, was built by Abbot Littlington between 1376 and 1386 
as a guest-chamber, and probably denved its name from the tapestries of 
the history of Jerusalem with which it was afterwards hung Later it was 
used as a council-chamber (see p. 192 above), as it now is for the meetings 
of Convocation. The Westminster Assembly met here in 1643, having 
found the Chapel of Henry VII. too cold The existing decorations of 
the room are of the time of James I., but the stained glass is older. 


ScenmI. — By cock and pte. A petty oath m common use in the time 
of S. It occurs again m M W i, i. 316. Cock is probably a corruption 
of God^ as in Cock^s passion (T ofS iv 1 . 121), CocBs body^ CocBs •maunds^ 
and many similar oaths found m the plays of that day. The pte may re- 
fer to the Romish service-book, which was sometimes so called ; the woid 
being more properly applied to a table or index in the book for finding 
out the service to be read upon each day In the preface to the English 
Prayer-Book, this table is referred to as follows ; “ Moreover the number 
and hardness of the rules called the Pie and the manifold changes,” etc 
On the other hand, The Cock and Pte (with pictures of the cock and‘ the 
magpie) was a common sign for taverns and alehouses. Blakeway gives 
an engraving of one at Bewdley. Bosw'ell quotes A Catechisme by George 
Giffard, 15S3, which seems to show that cock and pie referred only to 
the birds or to the tavern-sign • “Men suppose that they do not offende 
when they do not sweare falsly , and because they will not take the name 
of Qod to abuse it, they sware by small thinges, as by cocke and pye^ by 
the mouse foote, and many other suche like.” Douce endeavours to prov e 
that the oath had its origin in the grand feasts of the da>s of chivalry, 
when a roasted peacock was presented to each knight, who then made the 
particular vow he had chosen. When this custom had fallen into disuse, 
the peacock still continued to be a favourite dish at the feast, and was 
served up tn “a. pte. “The recollection of the old peacock vows might 
occasion the less senous, or even burlesque, imitation of swearing not 



only by the bird itself, but also by the pie ” Even if the oath referred at 
first to God and the sei vice-book, this was doubtless forgotten in Shake- 
speare’s time (like the connection of marry f with the Virgin Mary), and 
the cock and the pte came to be associated m the popular mind with the 
birds Not a few such “ illusive et}mologies ” have found pictorial illus- 
tration m the old tavern-signs 

9. William cook Cf, i Hen, IV in 1. 12 “since Robin ostler died ” 
II. Precepts, “Justice’s warrants” (Johnson), Cf Hen. V iii. 3, 26 

“ As send precepts to the leviathan 
To come ashore ” 

13 With red wheat, Vaughan remarks “This accords with an old 
practice of sowing a later wheat on the headland than in the rest of the 
field, because the headland, being used foi turning the plough, naturally 
came into condition for sowing later than the rest of the field It is still 
common in some parts to see red wheat — that is, a spring wheat — on the 
headland^ together with white wheat — that is, winter wheat — in the field ” 
17, Cast, Computed Cf. 1 i 166 above 
21. Hinckley, A market- town m Leicestershne 
24 Kickshaws, We find kickskawses in 71 iV 1. 3 122, the only other 
instance of the woid in S 

26 A friend in courts etc. Malone remarks that “ A friend in court is 
worth a penny m purse ” is one of Camden’s proverbial sentences. Dr. 
Grey cites The Romaunt of the Rose^ 5540 . 

“ For frende m courte aie better is 
Than peny is m purse, certis ’* 

31. Well conceited, A happy conceit I “Justice Shallow ap|>lauds his 
servingman’s grinning jest with the same expression that Nym uses when 
he says ^ Is not the humour conceited in M W 1 3 26 ” (Clarke) 

33. Woncot, Like Wincoi {T of S,\n^ 2 23), a corruption of Wilne^- 
cote, the name of a village near Stratford See p. 29 above 
45. He shall have no wrong- A fair sample of the course of justice in 
that day. Blakeway cites a speech of Sir Nicholas Bacon, m pailiament, 
1559 * r ^ monstrous disguising to have a justice a mamtainer, 

acquitting some for gam, enditing others for malice, bearing with him as 
his servant, overthrowing the other as his enemy ?” A member of the 
House of Commons in i&i defined a “justice of the peace ” as a creatuie 
that “for half a dozen chickens will dispense with half a dozen penal 
statutes ” 

51- Tall, A joke of Shallow’s. See on iii. 2. 55 above 
55, Quantities, That is, small pieces ; as in T of S, iv, 3. 112, and K, 
John, V. 4, 23 

Clarke remarks . “The relish with which Falstaff each time stays by 
himself to witticize upon Shallow’s peculiarities, the gusto with which he 
makes the justice’s leanness furnish him with as ample store of huinoui 
as his own fatness, the shrewdness with which he penetrates the tiuth of 
the relative qualities and positions of the country magistrate and his 
servingman, all show how thoroughly the author himself enjoyed the 
composition of this thrice-admirable comedy-poi trait character ” 



57 Semblable Similai , used as a noun in Ham, v 2 124 and T of A 
IV 3 22 

62 Consent Agieement, accord 

64 Near their master That is, being intimate with him, having influ- 
ence with him See Mnch Ado^ p 130, note on Neai 

65 Curry with That is, “curry favour with him,” flatter him. S. 
uses the expiession nowhere else 

71. Terms Cf A V L, 111 2 350 “With lawyers in the vacation, 
for they sleep between term and term,” etc 

On actions Johnson remaiks ; “There is something humorous in mak- 
ing a spendthiift compute time by the operation of an action for debt ” 

72 Intervaliums “ A jocose appropriation of the Latin word inter- 
vallum^ interval ” (Clarke) 

73. Sad Sober, serious. Cf Much Ado^ i. i 185, “Speak you this 
with a sad brow See also A K Z p 175 

“We may gather fiom this,” says Clarke, “ that Falstaff enhanced the 
effect of some of his jokes by staid utterance and a quiet dry manner ; but 
others, be sure, he Accompanied by a broad loar , and all with a twinkle 
of his eye that spoke volumes in archness and roguish meaning ” 

Scene II — 3. Exceeding well On well as used of the dead, see E- 
and y p 208 or W, T p 207 

13 Fantasy, Fancy, imagination See Ham p 171. 

31. Coldest Most disagreeable or unwelcome Cf. 3 Hen VI nl 2. 
133 “ A cold premeditation for my purpose etc 

33 Speak Sir John Falstaff fair Cf M N JD n 1. 199 * “ Do I entice 
you do I speak you fair bee also E and y p 183 

34 Swims against your stream, A metaphor equivalent to “ goes 
against your grain ” 

36 Impartial, The quarto reading ; the folio has ** imperial! ” 

37* Eagged, Beggarly, wretched. Warb thought the woid had “no 
sense,” and substituted “ rated ” {sssought for). 

FoiesiaWd remission. That is, a pardon that is sure not to be granted, 
the case having been prejudged Malone says “ I believe foiesiaWd only 
means asked before it is granted If he will grant me pardon unasked, so ; 
if not, I will not condescend to solicit it” J. H, explains a forestall* d re- 
mission as “ one which is precluded from being absolute, by the refusal of 
the offender to accuse or alter his conduct” 

48. Not Amurath, etc. Amurath the Third died m 1596, leaving a son 
Amurath, who, ©n coming to the throne, invited his brothers to a feast, 
where he had them all strangled, in ordei to pi event any inconvenient 
disputes conceining the succession. This allusion helps to fix the date 
of the play See p. 29 above. 

50 Ey my faith Alteied in the folio to “ to speak truth,” like so many 
other expressions which the Master of the Revels doubtless considered 

62. No other. Nothing else , as m Mach v 4. 8 * 

“ We learn no other but the confident tyrant 
Keeps still in Dunsuiane,” etc. 



71 Easy That is, easy to be boine , as in K John, m i. 207, etc 

72 Lethe For the poet’s allusions to the old mythical river of obliv- 
ion, see Ham p 195 

79 Presented, Represented. See M N D ^ 

80. And struck me, etc. See extract fiom Hohnshed, p 145 above. 

84 Garland, Crown ; as in iv 5 202 above Cf Rich ill 111 2 40 • 
“Till Richaid wear the gailand of the realm” (note the next line) 
Hohnshed uses the word m this sense. See p 144 above 

86 Awful Cf iv. I. 176 above 

87 To trip the course of law “ To defeat the process of justice ; a 
metaphor taken from the act of tupping a runner” (Johnson) 

90 And mock, etc “ To treat with contempt youi acts executed by a 
repiesentative ” (Johnson) 

92. Propose, Suppose, imagine, picture to yourself, as in T, aitd C 11. 
2. 146, etc 

g 6 . Taking your part. Acting in your behalf. 

97 Soft silencing Mildly restiaining Perhaps Theo. was right in 
changing soft to “ so ” According to the king (see 70 above), the justice’s 
treatment of him had not been soft, 

98 Cold constderance. Calm or dispassionate reflection. S. uses con- 
siderance only here. 

99 Speak in your state. Say, “ in your regal character and office, not 
with the passion of a man interested, but with the impartiality of a leg- 
islator ” (Johnson) 

109 Proper Own; as in Temp 111 3 60 “ their proper selves,” etc. 

For which I do commit, Verplanck remarks “The leader 
must bear m mind that the present tenure of office for life by the English 
judges IS but modern , and that, under the Plantagenets and Tudois, a 
Chief- Justice might be removed like any other officer of the crown. 
Henry’s voluntaiy retaining the Chief- Justice m his high station is, 
therefore, a manly acknowledgment of his own error, and a magnanimous 
tribute to the uprightness of the magistrate The story of the Prince’s 
insolence, and his commitment to prison, is stiictly historical, being re- 
lated briefly by Hall and Hohnshed, and more minutely by Sir Thomas 
Elyot, m his book of political ethics entitled The Governour, But these 
are all silent as to Henry V ’s after-treatment of the Chiefs Justice, or the 
latter’s being continued m office after the accession of Henry V. Several 
of the Shakespeaiian historical cntics, as Sir John Hawkins, Malone, and 
Steevens, in the last century, and very lately Tyler and Courtenay, deny 
the fact Itself, and some of them in a tone of rebuke for the ‘ author’s de- 
viation from history ’ I should be sorry to lose a noble example of 
model ation and magnanimity, m the exercise of political patronage, from 
history, but if those comments are coriect, Shakespeare deserves the 
higher honour of not having merely adopted and beautifully enforced, 
but having invented the striking incident, embodjing a noble lesson of 
political ethics, which in our own days even republican lulers may profit 
by I incline to the opinion that the English commentators are in error 
as to the fact, and that the poet has meiely decorated and enforced the 
truth, which probably came down to him by popular and geneial tradi- 



tion, as a plain fact, to which he has given the impiessive weight of moral 

“ Hawkins asserts that the poet ‘has deviated fiom historical truth by 
bringing the Chief-Justice and Henry ^ together/ as it is expressly saii 
by huller, m his Worthies of Yorlshtre^thdl Gascoigne died in the life- 
time of Henry IV. (viz ist Nov. 1412) Malone also mentions Shake- 
speare^s ‘ anachronism,’ on the authority of a transcript (m the Gentle- 
man's Magazine) of the inscription on the Chief- Justice’s tomb, ‘once 
legible,’ which records his death as ‘ ly Deer. Ann, Dorn, 1412.’ Stee- 
vens, I know not on what authority, places his death 13th Dec. 1413 
Henry IV died March 20, 1413. The discrepancy of these dates would 
thiow some doubt on any one of them, or all of them, weie there no con- 
tradiction as to the year But they are all overthiown by a lecent dis- 
covery by Mr Tyler of the record of Sir William Gascoigne’s will, bear- 
ing date 20th March, 1419, showing that there must have been some error 
of the press 01 of a copyist m the dates before mentioned. But Tyler 
and Courtenay say that Gascoigne was left out of office^at Henry V.’s 
accession, which is still less to the royal honour, and perhaps more to the 
poet’s Yet old Stowe, the most accurate of chionicleis, says ‘ William 
Gascoigne was Chief- Justice of the King’s Bench from the stxt of Henry 
IV. to the third Henry V.* 

“ Stowe’s authority may be fortified by an American author, who must 
have little thought, in preparing his curious and interesting volume, of 
being quoted by a Shakespearian annotator The Judiaal Chronicle 
(Cambridge, Mass , 1834), by Geqrge Gibbs, of New Yoik, is a most ex- 
act chronological list of the judges of the higher courts of England and 
America, from the earliest periods, the lists of the earlier English judges 
being compiled from Dugdale, Beatson, and Wooli>cke in that list 
Gascoigne is recoided to have ‘died or retired in 1414, the second year 
of Hen^ V and the same date is given for the appointment of his suc- 
cessor, Hankford. Upon these statements, the more probable conclusion 
would seem to be that Gascoigne must have been retained m ofiice dur- 
ing the first two years of Henry V., or, as Stowe says, ‘ to the third jrear 
of Henry V. and that his retirement was then voluntary The reader 
will judge for himself, on these authorities, whether the merit of this fine 
lesson of political magnanimity to a personal adversary is due wholly to 
the poet, or whether he must share that honour with the king.” 

1 15 Remembrance Reminder, admonition 

no The like. The same ; followed by cj, as in Rick JII iv. i. 9. 
“Upon the like devotion as youi selves,” etc. 

123. My father ts gone wild, etc “ My wild dispositions having ceased 
on my father’s death, and being now as it were buried m his tomb, he 
and wildness are interred in the same grave” (Malone) Cf Ren F 1. 

“The breath no sooner left his father's body 
But that his -wildness, mortified in him, 

Seem'd to die too ’* 

125. Sadly, Soberly , as opposed to wild (Johnson) Cf sad in v. i. 
73 above 



128 Who. Changed by Pope to “which,” to which it is often equiv- 
alent, especially in personifications See Gr 264. 

129. After my seeming According to what I appealed to be 

132 7 'he state of floods “The majestic dignity of the ocean” (Malone 
and Schmidt). Hanmer substituted “ the floods of state ” 

140. Accite. Summon See on 11 2 52 above 

141. EemembeAd Called to mind, mentioned. Cf Temp 1. 2. 405 
“The ditty does remember my di own’d father,” etc. 

142. Consigning to. Setting his seal to, confirming. See on iv. i 175 
above. In Cymh. iv 2. 275, consign /d?=come to the same state, submit 
to the same terms; and Schmidt explains it here as=“agiee, come to 
the same terms.” 

Scene III. — i . Orchard. Garden, as elsewhere mS. See y C. p 142 

2. Graffing. Grafting. See A.Y L p. 171 , and ctengiaffed in 11. 2. 
54 above 

3. Caraways.^ Goldsmith thought that apples of that name were meant ; 
but the best ciitics agree that the refeience is to caraway seeds, or some 
confection containing them Malone quotes Florio’s Second Frutes^ iS9i> 
wheie, after a dinner, a servant is oidered to bring in “apples, pears, , . , 
some bisket, and canawaies, with other comfects,” also the black-letter 
Booke of Cawyng “Serve after meat, peres, nuts, strawberies, huitie- 
beries and hard cheese also blaudrels or pipins, with caraway in cofects ” 
Steevens adds fioni Cogan’s Haven of Healthy 1595 “Howbeit we aie 
wont to eate carawaies or biskets, or some other kind of comfits or seedes 
together with apples, theieby to bieake wunde ingendred by them and 
surely it is a very good way for students ” 

II Husband An old foim of husbandman^ which is substituted in the 
3d folio. Cf. Spensei, F Q \v. 2, 29 

“Like as a withered tree, through husbands toyle, 

Is often scene full fresWy to have flourisht, 

And fruitfilll apples to have borne awhile, 

As fresh as when it first was planted in the soyle 

and Mother Huhberds Tale, 266 “ For husbands life is labourous and 

13 At supper. As Claike notes, this shows that the pippins and car- 
aways formed the meal called an ajter^supper See on 11 4. 10 above. 

19 Dear. Farmer calls attention to the play on the woid 

22 Ever among “ Perhaps a conuption of ever and anon ” (Schmidt). 

27. Froface. “ An Anglicized form of the Italian prh vi faccia , w'hich 
Flono renders ‘ Much good may it do you !’ ” (Clarke) Steevens quotes 
Taylor the Water Poet, in the preface to his Praise of Hempseed' “A 
preamble, preatrot, preagallop, preapace, 01 preface ; and proface, my 
masters, if your stomach serve and Springes for Woodcocks, 1606 . 
“ Proface, quoth Fulvius, fill us t’ other quai t.” 

29 The heart V all “ That is, the intention with which the entertain- 
ment is given. The humour consists in making Davy act as master of 
the house” (Johnson). 

32. My wife has all. Farmex conjectured “ My wife as all,” as being 



** a natural introduction to what follows ” Boswell replies that al/ 
IS an equally good introduction to what follows , it is a pi oof that she is 
a shiew ” 

34 ^Tzs mejry m hall when beards wag alL A very old proverb, as 
Steevens and Reed show by sundry quotations 

35 Shrovedide. A time of special meiriment, as the close of the car- 
nival season. 

39 / have been merty^ etc. See p 23 above. 

41 Leather-coats. A kind of russet apple, 

46, Leman. Sweetheart See 7 * p 136 

49. The sweet d the flight d JV.T vf sweet o’ the year,” 

See also 11 4 318 above, 

53 You a mtle^ etc. The 3d and 4th folios have “you wer’t a mile,” 

55. Beshrew your heart See on 11 3. 45 above 

57 Cavaleros Cavaliers, dashing fellows. Cf M JV. ii. 3 77 “ Cav- 
alero Slender ” 

58 Once. Perhaps=some time, as Steevens gives it Cf. Af W 111 4. 
103 “ I pray thee, once to-mght give my sweet Nan this ring ” Gr 57 

62. Pottle-pot A tankaid, holding a pottle, or two quaits. See 0 th. 
p 177, note on Pottle-deep 

63. By God^s hggens. An oath of Shallow’s own making, omitted 
course in the folio 

64. Whll not out Will not fail you; a sportsman’s expression. St. 
quotes Turbervile, Booke of Hunting “ If they run it endways orderly 
and make it good, then when they hold m together meirily, we say, They 
are in cne ” Cf A. and C. 11. 7 36 “I am not so well as I should be, 
but I ’ll ne’er out.” 

*ji. Do me right A common expression m drinking healths. Stee- 
vens cites Massinger, The Bondman . 

“These glasses contain nothing. Bo me right. 

As ere you hope for liberty,” 

72. Aitd dub me kmght It was a custom in the time of S to drink a 
mighty bumper kneeling, to the health of one’s mistress. He who per- 
formed this exploit was dubbed a knight for the evening Cf. The York- 
shire Tragedy, 1608. “They call it knighting m London when they dunk 
upon their knees. Come follow me , I ’ll give you all the degiees of it in 
order” (Malone). 

73 Sammgo. A boozy abbreviation of “San Domingo,” which was a 
common burden of drinking-songs. Steevens quotes Nash’s SummePs 
Last Will and Testament, 1600 

“Monsieur Mingo for quaffing doth surpass 
In cup, in can, or glass, 

God Bacchus, do me right, 

And dub me knight, 

Bomingo ” 

$7 But Except Some, however, point thus “ I think a’ be , but 
goodman Puff of Barson — ” 

Bar son is a corruption of Barston, a village in Warwickshire. 



97 Fotctra A -v ulgar expression of contempt 

99 O base Assyrian kmght^ etc FalstaflF, finding it impossible to make 
Pistol talk “like a man of this woild,” humouis him by adopting his 
bombastic style. 

100 King Cophetua The ballad of King Cophetua and the Beggar may 
be found in Percy’s Reliques 

10 1 And Robin Bood, etc A line from one of the old Robin Hood 

III Bezoman, A base fellow, or beggar Cf 2 IIe?i VI iv i 134 
“ Great men oft die by vile Bezonians ” It is derived from the Italian 
bisogno, need Steevens quotes Nash, Pierce Pennilesse^ 1595 “Proud 
lordes do tumble from the towers of their high descents and be trod un- 
der feet of every infenoi Besonian and Chapman, The Widow's Tears 
“ like a base Besogno ” 

1 16 Fig me “ 'Tofigt m Spanish hiigas dar, is to insult by putting' the 
thumb between the fore and middle finger” (Johnson), bee Ben, V 
p. 168, note on Figo 

1 19 As nail tn door “This proverbial expression is oftener used than 
understood. The door nail is the nail on which in ancient doors the 
knocker strikes. It is theiefore used as a comparison to any one 11 re- 
coverably dead, one who has fallen (as Virgil says) midta niorte^ that is, 
with abundant death, such as iteration of strokes on the head would nat- 
urally produce ” (Steevens). 

126, Carry Mastei Silence to bed. See p 24 above 

133. Blessed are they that. The quarto reading , changed in the folio 
to “ Happy are they which,” as quoted on p 28 above 

Clarke remarks “Falstaff’s luxuriant composition has a quality of 
generousness, he loves abundance as m thorough haimony with him- 
self— abundance to bestow as well as to possess ” 

136 Where is the hfe^ etc From an old ballad, quoted also in T, ofS, 
iv. 1. 143. 

Scene IV, — 5. Whipping-cheer, Whipping as her cheer^ or fare. Stee- 
vens quotes an old ballad 

And if he chance to scape the rope, 

He shall have whipping-cheer ” 

Cf wedding-cheer va. T of S \\\ 2, and R and J iv. 5 87 

7 Nut-hook “A name of reproach for a catchpole" (Johnson). Cf. 
M W \ I. 171 “if you run the nut-hook’s humour on me” As we 
have seen in 11 4 above, Doll has a copious vocabulary of abusive epi- 
thets at command 

13 Thin man in a censer. The old censers of thin metal had often a 
rudely hammered or embossed figure in the middle of the pierced convex 
lid (Steevens). These censers were used for burning perfumes in dw'ell- 
ing-houses, which often needed such sweetening in those unsavoury times. 
See Mitch Ado, p 127, note on Smoking a musty room, Cf also Rich, II, 
p. 167, note on The presence strewed, W believes the meaning to be 
“ that the thin officer wore some kind of cap which she likened to a cen- 
ser and he is probably right. 



14, Blue-bottle fopie Alluding to the colour of the beadle’s livery 

15 Cor 7 ethoner. A woid found nowhere else in S. 

16. Half-kirtles See on 11. 4 230 above 

19 Sufferance Suffering See i Heft IV p 195 

23 Atomy. The quaito reading, the folio has “anatomy,” which 
(=skeleton, as in K John^ 111 4 40) is what Mistress Quickly means 

24 Rascal. Used with a reference to its original sense of a lean deer 
See on 11,4 36 above. 

Scene V — i Rushes. For strewing the path of the royal procession 
For their use on floors, see Rich II p. 167 

12 The thousand pound I bon'owed. See on 111 2 301 above. 

13 hifer. Suggest, show 

15 // doth so In the quarto this speech is given to Pistol, as are the 
two lepetitions of it below. The tolio corrects the erior heie, but omits 
to do It there. 

24. Stained with travel. Cf i Heft IV 1 i 64 

“ Stain’d with the variation of each soil 
Betwixt that Holmedon and this seat of ours ” 

28 ’ T'zj semper idem^ etc “ Pistol uses a Latin expression, * Ever the 
same, for without this theie is nothing,’ and then goes on to allude to an 
English pioverbial phrase, ‘All m all, and all in every pait,’ which he 
seems to give as its free rendering ” (Clarke). Both the quarto and the 
1st folio have obsque, which the 2d folio and most modern eds correct to 
“ absque ,” but the blunder may be intentional See on 11 4 145 abo\ e. 

Verplanck remaiks “I do not find that any of the English critics 
have explained this sudden burst of learning in Ancient Pistol, though 
they note that the ‘ all m every part ’ is an old phrase of metaphysical 
poetry, and applied to the soul by Sir John Davies and Drayton. In the 
absence of authority, I take them all to be heialdic devices, then familiar 
(as the semper idem'* certainly was), such as Pistol would be likely to 
have observed, as well as Shakespeare’s audiences, m the pageants and 
processions of the day , and they are jumbled together quite in Pistol’s 
vein, to the gieat edification of Justice Shallow ” 

31 Liver See on 1 2 164 and iv, 3 96 above. 

35. HaPd Dragged See Much Ado, p 137 

37 Alecto’s The only mention of the Fury by name in S 

42. Imp. Youngling (used only by Armado, Holofemes, and Pistol) 
See L.L.L.I 2 5 ,v 3 592, and lien V.iv i 45. Plolinshed speaks of 
“Prince Edward, that goodlie impe,” and Churchyard calls Edwaid VI 
“ that impe of grace ” Fulwell, addressing Anne Boleyn, refers to Eliz- 
abeth as “ thy royal impe ” Steevens gives several similai examples 

53. Hence. Henceforth , as in Z. Z. Z v 2 826 and 0 th 111 3 379. 

56 Reply not, etc “ We see by this that there was a light in Falstaff’s 
eye, a play of his hp that betokened some repartee as to wherefore the 
grave should naturally gape wider for him than for other and slenderer 
men , and the king, knowing of old that once let Falstaff retort and he 
is silenced, forestalls the intended reply by forbiddmg and condemning 



it befoiehand” (Clarke) Warb remaiks. “Nature is highly touched 
in this passage The king, having shaken off his vanities, schools his old 
companion for his follies with gieat severity he assumes the air of a 
preacher, bids him fall to his piayers, seek grace, and leave gormandiz- 
ing But that word unluckily presenting him with a pleasant idea, he 
cannot forbear pui suing it — ‘Know, the grave doth gape for thee thrice 
wider, ^ etc — and is just falling back into Hal, by a humorous allusion 
to FalstafF’s bulk. But he perceives it immediately, and fearing Sir John 
should ta'ke the advantage of it, checks both himself and the knight with 
* Reply not to roe with a fool-bom jest ,* 

and so resumes the thi ead of his discourse, and goes moralizing on to 
the end of the chapter Thus the poet copies nature with great skill, 
and shows us how apt men are to fall back into their old customs, when 
the change is not made by degrees and bi ought into a habit, but detei- 
mined of at once, on the motives of honour, interest, or reason ” 

66. Tm mile See on a thousand pounds \ 2 209 above. Cf. extract 
from Holinshed, p 145 above. 

73. Set on. Go on. See on 1 3. 109 above. 

85. Colour. Pretence j as m 1. 2. 228 above. According to Schmidt, 
there is a play on collar m the reply , and there seems to be one also on 
du and dye 

87 Feat no colours. Do not fear; originally =fear no enemy. See 
T N.y> 127 

89 Soon at night “ This very night ” (Schmidt). Ci M W i % ii. 
2. 295, 298, M for Ml 4. 88, etc 

90 To the Fleet. That is, to the Fleet Prison * This is evidentl;^ the 
Justice’s sentence, and he should be held responsible for it, not the King, 
who has left the stage, and who had simply ordered that Falstaff should 
not come near him “ by ten mile ” He had, moreovei, promised that the 
knight should have “ competence of life,” and had even held out the hope 
of “ advancement ” m case he should reform The Chief-Justice, looking 
at the matter from a judicial point of view, naturally felt that the fat old 
reprobate had been let off too easily, and took the responsibility of pun- 
ishing him more according to his deserts. The king, whom the critics 
generally have been disposed to blame here, doubtless reversed the haid 
sentence afterwards , for we find Falstaff and his friends all at liberty m 
the opening scenes of Henry V. Sir John, however, does not rally from 
the disappointment he has met in being turned away by his “ loyal Hal ” 
His heait, as Pistol expresses it, “is fracted and corroborate but it is a 
comfort to know that he dies in his old quarters at the Boar’s Head, with 
his faithful old friend Dame Quickly to care for him in his last hours, and 
not in the Fleet Prison. 

* If the reader is not familiar with the topography of London in the olden time, he 
may not know that this pnson, like Fleet Street, takes its name from the Fleet River, 
which used to flow through the valley now bridged by the Holbom Viaduct, turning the 
mills which gave a name to Turnmill Street (see on 111 2 283 above) Ihe prison (de- 
molished in 1844) had a gate on the Fleet, like the Traitor’s Gate of the Tower upon the 
Thames. It was first used for those who were condemned by the Star Chamber, and 
not, as H supposes from its name, “for the accommodation of naughty sailors.” 


20 $ 

95. Si fortiina^ etc. See on 11 4 145 above* 

98 Shall all be vety well provided for Even the cold-blooded John 
of Lancaster seems to endoise the merciful policy of the king, and to as- 
sume that the orders to carry FalstafF and his company to the Fleet are 
not to inteifere with it Possibly they were put in prison only until ai- 
rangements should be made for carrying out the king’s pui poses concern- 
ing them But Clarke may be right in his opinion that Prince John, like 
the Chief- Justice, rejoices at the disgrace of Falstaff , “ but he puts a de- 
mure face on the anaii, and applauds the * fairness’ of the proceeding, 
while saying nothing about the extieme manner in which the king’s or- 
ders are carried out.” 

99 Conversations. Habits, behaviour. Cf A. and < 7 , 11.6 13 1: *‘ 0 c- 
tavia is of a holy, cold, and still conversation where the modern sense 
of conversation would be a bull. See also M W i\ i. 25. Bacon, in 
Essay 27, speaks of “ a love and desire to sequester a mans selfe, for a 
higher conversation and Latimer, in one of his Sermons^ refers to “ the 
conversations or doings of the saints.” Cf. Ps xxxvii. 14, 1 . 23. 

106 / heard a bird so smg. This expression was proverbial, and we 
sometimes hear it even nowadays. Steevens cites the old ballad of The 
Rising in the Noith 

“ I heare a bird sing m mine eare, 

That I must either fight or flee ” 


It is doubtful whether S. wrote this Epilogue. W. remarks that the 
speaker, who was a dancer, seems to imply that it is not the poet’s by 
saying that it is of his own making. “ It is a manifest and poor imitation 
of the Epilogue to A. Y. Z.” 

I. Courtesy. The same word as curtsy. Cf A. Y. L. epil, 23, and see 
on 11 I 1 13 above 

5. Should. Walker conjectures “shall,” but should was sometimes 
used instead of shalU even after a present tense. See Gr. 325 

Doubt^it^x^ suspect ; as often See K John, p 163, or Ham. p. 187, 

I I . Break. Become bankrupt of V. lii. i, 120 , “he cannot 

choose but break,” etc. 

13. Bate Remit ; as m Temp. i. 2. 250 : 

thou didst promise 
To bate me a full year,” etc. 

18. All the gentlewomen, etc. Johnson compares the epilogue to A Y. L. 
for “ the trick of influencing one part of the audience by the favour of the 

23, Our humble author, etc. Dowden remarks*. “The epilogue to 2 
Henry IV. (whether it was written by S or not remains doubtful) had prom- 
ised that *our humble author will continue the story with Sir John m it’ 
But our humble author decided (with a finer judgment than Cervantes in 
the case of his hero) that the public was not to be indulged m laughter 



for laughtei’s sake at the expense of his play. The tone of the entire 
play of Henry V. would have been altered if Falstaff had been allowed to 
appeal in it. Dm mg the monarchy of a Henry IV. no glorious enthusi- 
asm animated England It was distracted by civil contention. Mouldy, 
Shallow, and Feeble were among the champions of the royal cause. . . . 
At such a time our imagination can loiter among the humours and follies 
of a tavern When the nation was divided into various parties, when no 
interest was absorbing and supreme, Sir John might well appear upon 
his throne at Eastcheap, monarch by virtue of his wit, and form with his 
company of followers a state within the state. But with the coronation 
of Henry V. opens a new period, when a higher interest animates history, 
when the national life was unified, and the glorious struggle with France 
began. At such a time private and secondary interests must cease , the 
magnificent swing, the impulse and advance of the life of England occupy 
our whole imagination. It goes hard with us to part from Falstaff, but, 
like the king, part from him we must , we cannot be encumbered with 
that tun of flesh , Agincourt is not the field for splendid mendacity. Fal- 
stafF, whose principle of life is an attempt to coruscate away the facts of 
life, and who was so potent dunng the Prince’s minority, would now nec- 
essarily appear trivial. There is no place for Falstaff any longer on 
earth , he must find refuge ‘ m Arthur’s bosom ’ ” 

27 For Oldcastle died a martyr^ etc An important part of the evi- 
dence that Falstaff was originally called Oldcastle m the play, bee i 
Hen IV pp 10, 143 

29 And so kneel . , lo pray for the queen In the quarto these words 
(reading “ I kneele ”} are placed at the end of the first paragraph of the 
epilogue, after promise you infinitely Perhaps, as W suggests, the epi- 
logue, as at first written, consisted only of this paragraph, and the neces- 
sary transposition was overlooked when the rest was added in the quar- 
to. It was the custom in the poet’s time to end the performance with a 
prayer for the sovereign. In many instances, the form of prayer is found 
at the close of the play \ as, for example, in Preston’s Cambyses (quoted 
by Steevens) 

“ As duty binds us, for our noble queetie let us pray, 

And for her honourable councel, the truth that they may use, 

To practise justice, and defend her grace eche day , 

To maintaine God’s word they may not refuse. 

To correct all those that would her grace and grace’s laws abuse: 
Beseeching God over us she may reign long, 

To be guided by trueth and defended fiom wrong 
Amen, q Thomas Preston ” 

This custom seems to have been adopted from the old moralities. 


The Illustrations — ^The view of Eastcheap (frontispiece) illustrates 
the street architecture of the time. The neighbouring church of St 
Michael, Cornhill, is shown as it then appeared, on the authoiity of an 
old drawing engraved m the Londina Illustrata. The tower was taken 



down in 1421, and the chuich was destroyed m the Gieat Fire of 1666 
The stieet views on pp 54 and 119 aie also illustrative of the London of 
that day In the latter we see the north transept of Westminster Abbey, 
which was then the principal entrance, the western poition of the chuich 
being unfinished. Ihe houses that hemmed it in were not cleared away 
until a comparatively recent date The view of “ Paul’s Walk” on p 35 
will give an idea of the long nave of the grand old cathedral, and of its 
“ base uses ” as “ an house of merchandise ” The scene in Coventry 
(p 30) shows St Michael’s and Trinity churches, with one of the ancient 
“pageants” going on in the foieground. Shakespeare in his boyhood 
may have seen such a performance, as the exhibitions were not sup- 
pressed until 1580 The noble spire of St. Michael’s, 303 feet high, was 
old even then, having been finished in 1395 Tiinity Church was built 
in the 13th century, but the present spire was erected in 1664-7 to re- 
place the original one blown down in 1664. The portrait of Sir William 
Gascoigne (p 53) represents him m his judicial robes, and is taken from 
his monument m Harwood Church, Y 01 kshi re Ail these illustrations 

are from Knight’s Ptcto^ml Shakspeie 
The “ Time- Analysis ” of ihe Play. — This is summed up m Mr. 
P A Daniel’s paper “ On the Times or Durations of the Action of Shak- 
spere’s Plays,” Tiansacttons of New Shake Soc 1877-79, p 28S fol ), as 

“Time of this Play, nine days represented on the stage,* with three 
exti a Falstaffian days, and intervals. The total dramatic time, including 
intervals, is not easily determined , I fancy a couple of months would be 
a liberal estimate. 

Day I Act I. sc, t, Warkworth 
Lord Bardolph with Northum- 

Interval • time for Lord Bardolph Act / sc it, Falstaff in 1 . 

to join the Archbishop at York London, ) ^ * 

\ Act L sc tit, York Lord 
Bardolph with the Arch- 
bishop and confederates. 

While this scene takes 
place at York we may 
suppose that in 

Act 11, sc t Falstaff ’s ' 

Day 2 - arrest. The King and 

Prince Hal arrive from 

Act 11 sc n. Prince Hal 
and Poms. Day 2a, 

Act IT. sc, tit, Northum- 
berland resolves for 

Intei‘val, including the Falstaffian Act II. sc, iv, Suppei 
Days la and 2a, during which the at the Boar’s Head 
King arrives m London. 



E]tay3 Act III sc t Westminster 
The King receives uncertain news 
of the rebellion. This scene must 
be the morrow of Day za 
Interval Falstaff’s journey into 

Day 4 Act III sc, n Falstafi 
takes up recruits 

Interval, FalstafTs journey into 
Yorkshire to join the army of 
Prince John. 

Day 5 Act IV, sc, t to nt York- 
shire Suppiession of the rebell- 

Interval Westmoreland, followed 
by Pi nice John, returns to Loudon. 

Falstafif travels into Gloucester- 

Day 6. Act IV sc, tv and v 
Westminster. Westmoreland and 
Prince John arrive at the Court. 

Mortal sickness of the King. 

Act V, sc, t Falstaff ar- 
rives at Justice Shal- 

Day 7 Act V sc ti Westminster 
Immediately after the King’s 
death , the morrow, I take it, of Day 3c 

Day 6 

Interval Funeral of the late King, Act V sc m Justice 
preparations for the coronation Shallow’s Pistol ar- 
of the new. Within this interval rives with news of the 
must be supposed FalstafTs arn- King’s death, 
val at Justice Shallow’s, Pistol’s 
journey from London with news 
of the King’s death, and the re- 
turn of Fafstaff and company to 

Day 8. Act V sc tv Mrs Quick- 
ly and Doll Tearsheet in custody. 

Day 9. Act V sc v, London Ar- 
rival of Falstaff and company. 

Coronation of Henry V. 

I append for the convenience of the reader the dates of the chief his-’ 
torical events dealt with m the play: Battle of Shrewsbury, 21st July, 
1403; suppression of the Archbishop of York’s rebellion, 1405; final 
defeat of Northumberland and Lord Bardolph, 28th Feb., 1408 , death 
of Henry IV., 20th March, 1413 ; coronation of Henry V., 9th April, 1413 ; 
death of Owen Glendower, 20th Sept., 1415.” 


abated, xso 
abide, i66 

accents (plural), 163 
accites, 16^, 200 
accommodated, 176 
Achitophel, 153 
acomtum, 190 
action (trisyllable), 183 
addressed (=ready), 189 
advised, 152 
affect (=love), 194 
affections, 190 
after my seeming, 200 
after>supper, 166, 200. 
agate, 153 
Alecto, 203 
all (=two), 174- 
allow (=approve), 183. 
Althaa’s dream, 164 
Amurath, 197 
ancient (= ensign), 167 
ancient (=former), 166 
and there an end, 180 
angel (=com), 153 
anon, anon, sir ! 172 
antiquity {=old age), 156 
apopexy, xqx. 
apple-johns, 166 
approve (=:prove), 156 
apter, 149 
aptest, 132 
Arthur’s Show, 179. 
as (—as if), 191 
as nail m door, 202 
assemblance, 17S 
assistances, 194. 
at a word, 179. 
at door, 173 
at full, 130 

at least (=at worst >), 158 
at twelve-score, 176 
atomy, 203 
atonement, 184 
Atropos, 170 
attach (=arrest), 185 
attached (=sei2ed), 163 
awful (=fullof awe), 183, 198 
a- work, x88 

backsword man, 176 
balm (=anomting-oil), 193 
band (=bond), 153 
Barbary hen, 167. 

Barson, 201 

bate (=contention), 171 
bate (=n:emit), 205. 
battle (=army), 177, 183 
baying him, 159 
bear a mind, 17S 
bear in hand, 153 
bear-herd, 136 
became, 165, 
beefs, iSo 
belike, 163 
beseek, 168 
beshrew, 166, aoi 
bestow (= 5 behave), 163. 
bestride, 152. 

Bezonian, 202 
big (=pregnant), 147 
biggen, 192 
bleed <=bebled), i8r 
bloody (=sanguine), i8t 
blubbered, 173. 
blue-bottle rogue, 203 
blunt (=dull), 147 
borne (=laden), 173 
borrower’s cap, 164 
bounce, 179 
brawn, 148. 

break (=become bankrupt), 

breeds no bate, 171 
bruited, 130 
buckle (=bend), 130 
bung (^sharper), 167 
burst (—broke), 180 
busses, Z72. 

' but, 201 
I by, 193 

by cock and pie, 195 
by God’s hggens, 201 

Cam, 15 X 
cahver, 178 
calm (=qualm), 167 
, cananes, 166 


candle*mine, 172 
cankers (= worms), 164 
Cannibals, 16S 
cannot choose but, 178 
capable, 132 
carat, 194 
caraways, 200 

cast (=calculated), 151, 196. 

cavaleros, 201 

channel (=:keniiel), i6o 

cheater, 167 

check (=:reproof), x86 

check (=:reprove), 136 174 

choked the respect of, 132 

chops, 170 

chopt, 179 

churlish, 159. 

civil, 181 

clapped 1’ the clout, 176 
close with, 172 
cock and pie, 193 
cold considerance, 198 
coldest, 197 

Colevile (tnsyllable), 187 
colour (—pretext), 157, 204 
come to any proof, 187 
commences and sets in act, 

commodity, 157. 
commotion, z8i. 
companion, 167. 
complices, 15 1 
confound (=:exhaust), 190 
conger, 170, 
consent (—agree), 139 
consent (^agreement), 197 
consider of, 173 
consigning to, 200 
consist, 183 
continents, 173 
conversations, 203 
Corporate (=Corporal), 178 
corpse (plural), 152. 
correctioner, 203 
cost (=costly thing), 159 
costermonger times, 155 
Cotswold man, 175 
could away with me, 177 


courtesy, 162, 205 
Coventry, 182 
cover (=:lay the table), 166 
crack (=pert boy), 176 
crafty sick, 148 
crosses (play upon), 156 
crudy, 188 

current (=:genuine), i6i 
curry with, 197 
cuttle, 168. 

dace and pike, iSo 
dale, 1S6 

day (=day of battle', 148 
dead elm, 172 
deal (=eamest', 194 
deal (play upon', 200 
declension, 165 
detensible, 166 
depart (transitive), 193 
determine of, 183 
determined (= ended), 193 
devil’s book, 163 
devour the way, 149 
discolours the complexion, 

discoverers, 180 
do me nght, 201. 

Dolphin-chamber, 161. 
doubt (=fear), 205 
draw (=assemble), 160 
draw (=withdraw), 162 
draw a curtain, 149 
drollery, 162 
drooping, 147. 
dub me knight, 20X 
dull (=soothing), 192 

earl (=duke), 182. 
easy, 198 

eating the air, T57 
element (=tsky), 187. 
enamoured on, z6o 
endeared (=bound), 165 
enforcement, 150 
engaged to this loss, 152 
engraffed to, 163 
engrossed, 193 
engrossments, 193 
enlarge his rising, 152 
Ephesians, 163. 
equal with, 159 
ever among, 200 
exclamation, x6z. 
exion, x6o 

face-royal, 133 
faiths, 1S3 
faitors, 168 
fencies, 179. 
fantasy, 197 

fear (=cause to fear), 191, 

fear (=fearful thing), 149, 194 

fear no colours, 204 

fearful (=full of feai), 147 

feed (fostei), 15 1 

fennel, 170 

fetch off, 179 

fiery tngon, 171 

fig me, 202 

fillip, 157 

flap-dragons, 171 

flaws congealed, 1891^ 

Fleet, the, 204 
fleshed, 151 
flint, 189 
foeman, 178 
foin, 160, 170 
followed, 148 
fond (=foolish), 159 
fondly, 186 
for (=as for), 165 
for recordation to, 166 
force perfoice, 1S2, 190 
forehand shaft, 176 
foiestalled remission, 197 
forgetive, 188. 
forspent, 148 
foutra, 202 
frank (=sty), 163. 
fubbed off, i6o, 
fustian, 169 
fustilanan, 161. 

Galloway nags, 169 
gan, 150 

S irland (=crown', 198. 

aultree Forest, 180 
gave out (^declared), iSo. 
German hunting, 162 
gibbets on the brewer 5 
budcet, 178 
giddy, 194 ^ 
gird (—gibe), 153 
go (play upon), 
good (=fe,vourabieb 161 
good morrow, 174. 
good-nights, 179 
good-year, 167 
grace (play upon), 173 
graff, 163, 200 
grate on (—vex), i8i 
gravy (pronunciation), 155 
greaves, 181 
grey, 165 

grief (=:pam)j 150 
griefs ( = gnevances), 181, 
1S5, 194 

grows to me, 154. 
guarded (=tnmmed), xSx 
guilt (play upon), 193 

had as lief, 153, 178 
haled, 203 
half-&ced, 178 

half-kirtles, 203 
handling (tnsyllable), 183 
hangs, 184 

happy low, he dowm, 174 
Harry ten shilhngs, 17S 
hatch (noun), 175 
haunch, 190 
have at him, 156 
hearken the end, 172 
heat, 172, 186 
hem, boys’ 178. 
hemp-seed, 160 
hence (=henceforth), 203 
hilding, 149 
Hinckley, 196. 

Hiren, x68 
his (=itsh 139, igi 
his tongue be hotter, 153 
history (verb), 184 
hold sortance, z8o 
Holland (play upon), 163 
honey-seed, x6o 
honey-suckle, 160 
hook-nosed fellow of Romer 

horn (play upon), 153 
how a (—how go a), 176 
how chance, 189. 
humane, 189 
humorous, 189 
humours (=capnces), 162 
humours of blood, 163 
hunt counter, 154, 
burly, 174 
husband, 200 

I heard a bird so sing, 203 
111 (=evil), iss 
ill -beseeming, 181 
imagination (metre), 137 
imbrue, 170 
immediate, 193, 
imp (=younghng), 203 
in a particular ballad, 187 
111 charge, 182 
in few, 150 
in fewer offices, 158 
in his particular, igo 
in my condition, 187. 
in our means, 157 
lu paper, 139 

in poison there is physic, 130^ 
in piqject of, 157 
in the efiect of, 162 
incensed, 137, xSg 
incertain, 137 
indifferency, 186 
infer (=suggest), 203 
infinitive, x6o 
instnewed, xSs. 
instance (=proof), 173, 181 
instinct (accent), 149 
intdhgencer, 184. 


intended, 183 
intervallums, 197 
invincible, 179 
non man, 1S4 
it (possessive), 155 
It IS (contemptuous), 167 

jade, 149 

Jerusalem Chamber, 19s 
joined-stools, 17 1 
juvenal, 153 

keech, 161 
kept by a devil, i8S, 
kickshaws, 196 
kindly (=natural), 193 
Kmg Cophetua, 202, 
kirtle, 172 
knolhng, 150 

larum, 173 
lay (=resided), 179 
lay by the heels, 155 
leather-coats, 201 
leathern jerkins, 165 
leman, 201 
Lethe, 198 
lewd, 163. 
hbbard, 160 
he (splodge), 185. 
he in the throat, 154 
lighten (=enlighten), 162 
hke (sBhkely), 159 
like (sshken), z6x* 
hke as, 199 

lined (ssstrengthened), 157 
: to his mastei^s old 

tabl^ 171. 

little (=:a little), 174. 
liver, 156, x8S, 203 
loathly, 191 

look beyond (= misjudge), 

looked (—expected), 153 
Lubber’s-head, 160 
Lambert Street, 160 

mad (=merry)T 17s 
make courtesv, 162. 
make head, 15 1 
Malmsey-nose, 160. 
malt-worms, 172. 
mandrake, 153 
man-queller, z6o 
many (noun), 159 
mare (=mghtmare), x6i. 
marry, 163 
Martlemas, 164 
me (expletive), 188 
medicine potable, 194. 
mess (=portion), i6i 
met {=got), 194. 
mile (plural), 204 

Mile-End Green, 179 

miscarried, 182 

misdoubts, 184. 

misordered, 185. 

mistook, 185 

mode, 794 

model (—plan), 158 

moody, 190 

more and less, 152. 

more fairer, 194 

most stillest, 174 

mouldy stewed prunes, t68 

much (iromcal), 177. 

mure, 191 

muse (=wonder), 183 

nail in door, 202 
near, 197. 
neifj 169 
never none, 187 
Nevil, 174 
new-dated, 180 
news (number), 130 
nice, 150, 183 
Nine Worthies, 170 
no othei, 197 
noble (com), 162 
noise {=musicians), 166. 
not (transposed), 182 
nut-hook, 202, 

obedience, 194. 
observance, 186 
observe, 191 
observed, 189 
obsque, 203 

occasion ( quadrisyllable ), 

occupy, 168. 
ocean (trisyllable), 174. 
o er-read, 173 
offer (==menace), 184 
offices, 158 
old (intensive), 166. 
Oldcastle, 20& 
omit (=neglect), 189 
once (=some time), 2or 
one (pronunciation), z6o 
opposite (noun), x8o 
orchaid (—garden), 200 
ostentation, 163 
other (=others), 177. 
other his, 190 
our valuation, 
ousd, 175 

out (=out from), 163 
out-breathed, 150 
overlive, 180 
over-rode, 148 
overween, 182 
owed {=owned}, 152 

pantler, 170 

parcel-gilt, 16 1 
part (=action), 193 
pait (=depart), 185 
passing (adverb), 185 
Paul’s, 154 
pause us, 1S9 
pawned, 185 
peasant (=: rural), 148 
peascod-time, 173 
perfectness, 190 
perforce, 151, 159, i7S» ^92 
persistency, 163. 
peruse (=:survey), 185 
philosopher’s two stones, 18a 
picking (=petty), 184. 
please it, 148, 175, 190 
pleaseth, 284, 1S5 
Poms his brother, 172. 
point (=lace), 149 
point (=sigaal), 181. 
points (play upon), 169 
Porafret, 152 
ports (=portals), 193 
posts (=:horses), 187 
pottle-pot, 201 
pound (plural), 156 
powei (—army), 150, rSg 
powers (=forces), 152, 180, 

precepts (sswarrants), 19$. 
pregnancy, 156 
present (^immediate), 187. 
presented, 198 
presurmise, 131 
pnck (=mark), 177 
pricked down, 173 
proface, 200 
profited, 164 
proper (=own), 198. 
proper fellow of my hands, 

proper to, 137 , „ 

propose (—suppose), 198 
puissance (metre), 157, 139, 

punish by the heels, 153 
purchased, 194. 

quantities, 196. 
queasiness, 152. 
quicksilver, ^^o 
quiet o’er-pOsting, 155 
quit (=exempt), 178 
quittance, 130 
quiver (=:nimble), 179 
quoif, 130, 
qiioit^ 169 

racket, 163 

ragged {=beggarly), 197 
ragged’ St, 151. 
rampaihan, 161. 
la'^cal, 167, 203 


rebellion ( quadnsyllable ), 

recordation, 166 

red lattice, 164 

red wheat, 196 

religion (quadnsyllable), 132 

remembiance, 199 

rere-supper, 166 

resolved correction, 1 84 

respect (^regard), 132 

rheumatic, 167 

rides the wild mare, 169 


ripe (verb), 180 

rood (=cross), 175 

royal faiths, 183 

Rumour, full of tongues, 147 

rushes, 203 

’s (=his), 178 
sack (play uponl, 156 
sad (—sober), 197 
sadly (—soberly), 199. 
said I well? 178. 

Samingo, 201 

Saturn and Venus in con- 
junction, 171 

saving your manhoods, 160 
scab (personal), 179 
sect 167 

seldom when, 190 
semblable, 197 
semper idem, etc , 203 
set abroach, 184 
set off, 182 
set on, 160, 204 
seven stars, 169 
sherris-sack, 188. 
ship-boy, 174 
shot (=shooter), 179 
should (= shall), 205 
shove-groat, 169 
shrewd, 170 
Shrove-tide, 201 
SI fortune, etc , 169, 203 
sicked, 191 

sights (of helmet), 182 
since (=when), 177 
since when’ x68 
single (play upon', 156. 

Sir Dagonet, 179 
Skogan’s head, 173 
slippery clouds, 174 
slops (=breeches), 153 
smooth-pates, 153 
sneap, 16 z 

so (omitted), 152, 174, 1 83, li 
so (—so be It), 178 
soft silencing, zgS 
something 3, 156. 
son (play upon), 177. 
soon at night, 204* 
south (—south wind', 173 

speak fair, 197 
speak in your state, 19S 
speaking thick, 163 
spit white, 156 
stained with travel, 203 
stand my good lord, 1S7 
stand the push, 163 
staying no longei question, 

stifltbome, 152 
stdl-stand, 166 
stomach, 150, 190 
stop (of pipe), 147 
strained (=excessive', 131 
strand (spelling), 149 
strange-achiev ed, 193. 
stratagem, 14S 
strengthless, 130 
strengths (concrete), 159 
studied, 163 

success (=succession), 185 
successively, 194 
sufferance, 203 
sullen (of sounds), 149 
supplies (=remforcements), 
i57» i8s 
supposed, 194. 

Surecard, 177 
suspire, 192 
swaggerers, 167 
sway, 180 

sweet o’ the night, the, 201 
swmge-bucklers, 173 
sworn brother, 180 

’t is merry in hall, etc , 201 
tables (—note-book', 1 72, 184 
take not the heat, 172 
take on me as, i8x 
take order, 177 
take up (=encounter), 159 
take up (=get on trust), 153 
take up {=levy), 185 
taking your part, 198. 
tall (=stout), 176, 196. 
tame cheater, 167 
tap for tap, 162 
teacheth (— prompteth), 194 
tell (play upon), 135 
tempering, 189 
tester, 179 

Tewksbury mustard, 170 
tliat (affix), 166, 190 
the heart *s all, 200 
theme (—matter), 157 
thereafter as they be, 176 
thews, 178 

thin man in a censer, 202 
this little kingdom, man, 188 
thou wert better, j 54. 
three-man beetle, 137. 
tidy, 170 
tiUjMfadly, 167. 

tirrits, 170 
title-leaf, X49 
to (=accoiding to), 182 
to (=for), 177 
toward (=:at hand), 170 
toys (=trifles), 168 
trade {=activity), 152 
transformed him ape, 163 
traverse (=march), X79 
tngon, 1 71 

trimmed in thine own de- 
sires, 139 

trip the course of law, 198 
Turnbull Street, 179 
twenty, 164. 

unfathered heirs, 191 
unfirm, 159 

united vessel of their blood, 

usurpation (metre', 149 
utis, x66 

vail his stomach 130 
valiant (trisyllable , 165 
vaward, 156 

venom of suggestion, 190 
vice (=grasp), 160 
Vice’s dagger, 180 

wanton (=luxunous', 130 
warder (— tiuncheon), 1S2 
wassail candle, 133 
watch-case, 173 
well conceited, 196 
well encountered, 184 
well invested, 189. 
wen, 164 

what (=who), 148 
what (=why), 148, 155, x6x 
Wheeson, i6x 
whiles, 18s 
whippmg-cheer, 202. 
who (—which), 200, 
whoreson, 155 
wall not out, 201 
winking, 157 
with (=by), X52 
with safety, 192 
wiihin a ken, 183 
witnessed usurpation, 149 
woe-begone, 149 
woman’s tailor, 177 
womb (-belly), 186 
Woncot, ig6 
woo't, 160 
wrought (form), 190 

yea-forsooth knave, 133. 

yeoman, 160 

you (expletive), 178 

zeal of God, 183 



The Merchant of Venice. 

The Tempest. 

Jnlins Caesar. 


As Xou Like It. 

Henry the Fifth. 


Henry the Eightli. 
AMidsnmmer-Night^s Dream* 
Hichard the Second. 

Bichard the Thii*d. 

Much Ado About Nothing. 
Antony and Cleopatra. 

Borneo and Juliet. 


Twelfth Night. 

The Winter’s Tale* 

!King John* 

Henry IV. Parti. 

Henry IV. Part H. 

King Lear.^ 

The Taming of the Shrew. 
AH ’s WeU That Ends Well. 

Comedy of Errors. 

Meriy Wives of Windsor. 
Measure for Measure. 

Two Gentlemen of Vei*ona* 
Love’s Labour ’s Lost* 
Timon of Athens. 

Henry YI. Parti. 

Henry VI. Part II* 

Henry TI. Part III. 
Troilns and Cressida. 
Pericles^ Prince of Tyre. 
The Two Noble Kinsmen. 


Titus Androntcus. 

iLLtrSTRATED. 16 mO, ClOTH, 66 CTS. PBB VOL ; PaPEB,40 OTS, PER Vot 

In tbe preparation of this edition of the English Classics it has been 
the aim to adapt them for school and home reading, in essentially the 
same way as Greek and Latin Classics are edited for educational pur- 
poses. The chief requisites are a pure text (expurgated, if necessary), 
and the notes needed for its thorough ^explanation and illustration. 

Each of Shakespeare’s plays is complete in one volume, and is pre- 
ceded by an Introduction containing the “ History of tbe Play,” the 
“ Sources of the Plot,” and Critical Comments on the Play ” 

Fi om Horace Howard Furness, Ph D , LL D , of the “ JVew Phno- 
' turn S/iake^are ” 

No one can examine these volumes and fail to be impressed with the 
conscientious accuiacy and scholarly completeness aith which they are 
edited. The educational purposes for which the notes are written Mr 
Rolfe never loses sight of, but like “a well-experienced archer bits the 
mark his eye doth level at.” 


Rolfe^s Shakespeare, 

From F, J Furnivall, Direitor of the New Shakspere Soittiyy Loyidon, 

The merit I see m Mr Rolfe’s school editions of Shakspere’s Plays 
ovei those most widely used in England is that Mr Rolfe edits the plays 
as works of a poet, and not only as productions in Tudor English Some 
editors think that all they have to do with a play is to state its source 
and explain its hard woids and allusions , they treat it as they would a 
charter oi a catalogue of household furniture, and then rest satisfied. 
But Mr Rolfe, while clearing up all verbal difficulties as carefully as any 
Dryasdust, always adds the choicest extracts he can find, on the spiiit 
and special “note” of each play, and on the leading characteristics of its 
chief personages He does not leave the student without help m getting 
at Shakspere’s chief attributes, his characterization and poetic power. 
And eveiy practical teacher knows that while every boy can look out 
hard words in a lexicon for himself, not one m a score can, unhelped, 
catch points of and realize character, and feel and express the distinctive 
individuality of each play as a poetic creation 

From Prof Edw'ard Dowden, ULV, of the Umvtfstty of Dnbhn^ 
Author of Shakspere His Mind and Art^^ 

I incline to think that no edition is likely to be so useful for school and 
home reading as yours. Your notes contain so much accurate instruc- 
tion, with so little that is superfluous , you do not neglect the aesthetic 
study of the play , and in externals, paper, type, binding, etc,, you make 
a book “ pleasant to the eyes ” (as well as, “ to be desired to make one 
wise ”) — ^no small matter, I think, with young readers and with old. 

From Edwin A. Abbott, M A., Author of ^^Shakespearian Grammar:^ 
I have not seen any edition that compresses so much necessary Infor- 
mation into so small a space, nor any that so completely avoids the com- 
mon faults of commentaries on Shakespeare — ^needless repetition, super- 
fluous explanation, and unscholar-Iike ignoring of difficulties. 

From Hiram Corson, M A,, Professor of Anglo’-Saxon and English 
Literature^ Cornell Unrversiiyy Ithaca^ N Y, 

In the way of annotated editions of separate plays of Shakespeare, for 
educational purposes, I know of none quite up to Rolfe’s. 

Rolfe^s Shakespeare, 


From Pi of F. J Child, ^ Harvmd Umverstiy, 

I read your ** Merchant of Venice” with my class, and found it in every 
respect an excellent edition. I do not agree with my friend White m the 
opinion that Shakespeare requires but few notes— that is, if he is to be 
thoroughly understood. Doubtless he may be enjoyed, and many a hard 
place slid over. Your notes give all the help a young student requires, 
and yet the reader for pleasuie will easily get at just what he wants. 
You have indeed been conscientiously concise. 

Under date of July 25, 1879, 1 ’rof CHILD adds * Mr Rolfe’s editions 
of plays of Shakespeare are veiy valuable and convenient books, whether 
foi a college class or for private study. I have used them with my 
students, and I welcome every addition that is made to the senes They 
show caie, research, and good judgment, and aie fully up to the time m 
scholarship. I fully agree with the opinion that experienced teachers 
have expressed of the excellence of these books. 

From Rev. A. P, Peabody, D.D , Professor m Harvard University, 

I regard your own work as of the highest meiit, while you have turned 
the labors of others to the best possible account. I want to have the 
higher classes of our schools introduced to Shakespeare chief of all, and 
then to other standard English authors , but this cannot be done to ad- 
vantage, unless under a teacher of equally rare gifts and abundant leisuie, 
or through editions specially prepared for such use. I trust that you 
will have the requisite encouragement to proceed with a work so hap- 
pily begun. 

From the Examiner and Chronicle-^ N, K 

We repeat what we have often said, that there is no edition of Shake- 
speare’s which seems to us preferable to Mr. Rolfe’s. As mere specimens 
of the printer’s and binder’s art they are unexcelled, and their other 
merits are equally high. Mr. Rolfe, having learned by the practical ex- 
perience of the class-room what aid the average student really needs m 
order to read Shakespeare intelligently, has put just that amount of aid 
into his notes, and no more. Having said what needs to be said, he stops 
there. It is a rare virtue in the editor of a classic, and we are propor- 
tionately grateful for it. 


Rolfe^s Shakespeare, 

From the N K Ttmes 

This work has been done so well that it could hardly have been done 
better. It shows thioughout knowledge, taste, discriminating judgment, 
and, what is rarer and of yet higher value, a sympathetic appreciation of 
the poet’s moods and purposes. 

From the Paafii School yourtzal, San Francisco, 

This edition of Shakespeare’s plays bids fair to be the most valuable 
aid to the study of English litei ature yet published For educational pur- 
poses It is beyond praise. Each of the plays is printed in large clear type 
and on excellent paper. Every dilSiculty of the text is clearly explained 
by copious notes It is remarkable how many new beauties one may dis- 
cern in Shakespeaie with the aid of the glossaries attached to these books, 
. . . Teachers can do no highei, better work than to inculcate a love 
for the best literatuie, and such books as these will best aid them in 
cultivating a pure and refined taste. 

Fiom the Christian UnioUf N Y 

Mr W J Rolfe’s capital edition of Shakespeare — by far the best edi- 
tion for school and parlor use. We speak after some practical use of it 
in a village Shakespeaie Club. The notes are biief but useful , and the 
necessaiy expurgations are managed with disci iminating skill. 

From the Academy^ London 

Mr Rolfe’s excellent senes of school-editions of the Plays of Shake- 
speare. . . . Mr. Rolfe’s editions differ from some of the English ones 
in looking on the plays as something more than word-puzzles. They give 
the student helps and hints on the characters and meanings of the plays, 
while the word-notes are also full and posted up to the latest date. . . 
Mr Rolfe also adds to each of his books a most useful “Index of Words 
and Phrases explained ” 

Published by HARPER & BROTHERS, New York. 

(53^ Any of the above works wtU he sent hy matl^ postage prepatcL^ to any ^art of the 
Untied States^ on receipt of the price 


with Notes, by William J Rolfe, A.M., formerly Head 
Master of the High School, Cambridge, Mass, Illus- 
trated. x6mo, Paper, 40 cents ; Cloth, 56 cents. {Urn- 
form, wtth Rolfe' s Shakespeare ) 

The carefully ai ranged editions of “The Merchant of Venice” and 
other of Shakespeare’s plays prepared by Mr. William J Rolfe for the 
use of students will be remembered with pleasure by many readers, and 
they will welcome another volume of a similar character from the same 
source, in the form of the “ Select Poems of Oliver Goldsmith,” edited 
with notes fuller than those of any othei known edition, many of them 
original with the editor — Boston Transcript 

Mr Rolfe is doing very useful work in the preparation of compact 
hand-books for study in English literature. His own personal culture, 
and his long experience as a teacher, give him good knowledge of what 
is wanted in this way — The CongregatzonaUst^ Boston. 

Mr. Rolfe has prefixed to the Poems selections illustrative of Gold- 
smith’s character as a man and grade as a poet, from sketches by Ma- 
caulay, Thackeray, George Colman, Thomas Campbell, John Forster, 
and Washington Irving. He has also appended, at the end of the 
volume, a body of scholarly notes explaining and illustrating the poems, 
and dealing with the times m which they weie written, as well as the 
incidents and circumstances attending their composition. — Christian 
Intelligencer^ N. Y 

The notes are just and discriminating in tone, and supply all that is 
necessary either foi undei standing the thought of the several poems, or 
for a critical study of the language The use of such books in the school- 
room cannot but contribute largely toward putting the study of English 
literature upon a sound basis ; and many an adult reader would find in 
the present volume an excellent oppoitmnty for becoming critically ac- 
quainted with one of the greatest of last centuiy’s poets . — Appletofls 
Journah N. Y. 


Sent Bjf mifl$ postage prepaid^ to any pari of the Untied Siaies, on receipt of 
ihe price. 


Notes, by William J. Rolfe, A.M., foimerly Head 
Master of the High School, Cambridge, Mass. Illus- 
trated. Square i6mo. Paper, 40 cents ; Cloth, 56 cents. 

( Uniform with Rolfis Shakespeare ) 

Mr. Rolfe has done his woik m a manner that comes as near to per- 
fection as man can approach. He knows his subject so well that he is 
competent to instinct all m it, and readers will find an immense amount 
of knowledge in his elegant volume, all set forth in the most admirable 
order, and breathing the most libeial and enlightened spirit, he being a 
■warm appreciator ol the divinity of genius — Boston Ti aveller. 

The gieat meiit of these books lies in then carefully-edited text, and m 
the fulness of their explanatoiy notes Mi Rolfe is not satisfied with 
simply expounding, but he exploies the entiie field of English literature, 
and therefrom gatheis a multitude of illustrations that are interesting in 
themselves and valuable as a commentary on the text. He not only in- 
structs, but stimulates his readeis to fresh exertion , and it is this stimu- 
lation that makes his labois so productive in the school-room . — Saturday 
Evening Gazette^, Boston. 

Mr. William J. Rolfe, to whom English literatiue is largely indebted 
for annotated and nchly-illustrated editions of several of Shakespeaie’s 
Plays, has treated the “ Select I’oems of Thomas Gray in the same way 
—just as he had previously dealt with the best of Goldsmith’s poems. — 
The Press, Phila. 

Mr. Rolfe’s edition of Thomas Gray’s select poems is marked by the 
same discriminating taste as his other classics — Springfield Repuhhean* - 

Mr. Rolfe’s rare abilities as a teacher and his fine scholarly tastes ena- 
ble him to prepare a classic like this in the best manner for school use 
There could be no better exercise for the advanced classes in our schools 
than the critical study of our best authors, and the volumes that Mr. Rolfe 
has prepared will hasten the time when the study of mere form will give 
place to the study of the spirit of our literature,— Courier^ 

An elegant and scholarly little volume.— Intelligencer, N. Y. 

Published m HARPER & BROTHERS, New Yoke, 

Sfitii ^ postage prepaid, to any pari of the Umied States, on receipt of ike 

price and one sixth additional for postage